***Rainah***
The first battle cry reached us just before dawn.
It came across the mountains thin and broken, carried on a wind so cold it seemed to scrape the sound apart. I stood at the edge of our camp with one hand braced against the trunk of a pine, listening as the cry faded into the dark.
For several seconds, no one moved.
Then another cry rose.
This one was closer.
Not close enough to see the source, but close enough to recognize the panic beneath it.
Shademoon.
My former pack was under attack.
I closed my eyes.
The forest sharpened around me. Snow whispered through the branches. Somewhere beneath the drifts, a stream moved beneath its frozen skin. Behind me, my pack shifted uneasily, waking one by one.
Jaxon emerged from the shelter of the rocks, his dark hair damp with
