Chrystal’s mind raced as she stared at the battle before her, while the one within threatened to tear her apart.
Without warning, a piercing whistle resounded in the open clearing.
As if by magic, the dark shape of rogue wolves, in full shift, burst out of the trees.
“You forget, Noble Alpha,” Castian remarked snidely, as he paused in the tangle he and the pack wolf had become, stressing Darius’ title as if it was something that tasted rotten in his mouth.
“That if you can smell MY Luna, we can smell her too,” he growled, as he drove his dagger straight at Darius’ face in three successive movements, all the while speaking calmly.
The rogues advanced, and Darius’ men scattered, shifting into their wolf forms as they rushed to meet their enemies, leaving Darius and Klaric behind.
Dariu
