The silence of the Whispering Woods did not just swallow Elena; it severed something vital right out of Julian’s chest.
He stood entirely naked from the waist up on the border of the valley flats, the freezing mountain drizzle plastering his dark hair to his skull. His skin was hot, smoking slightly where the rain hit his shoulders, a residual byproduct of the forced, half-completed shift back into his human form. His fingers still twitched, the nails thick and sharp, aching to bury themselves into the throat of whatever ancient power had just slammed the door in his face.
"Alpha..." Marcus’s voice was a strained, low whine from the mud behind him.
The gray wolf had managed to tear himself free from the root, but his left foreleg was tucked tightly against his chest, leaking dark, thick
