The growl came again—closer now, deeper, vibrating through my bones like a warning from the mountain itself.
Matteo’s hand didn’t waver on his weapon, and I felt the heat of his focus beside me. But it was him—him—who stepped instinctively in front of me like I was some fragile thing. I hated that. And yet, I didn’t push him away. Not yet.
Then it happened.
From the tree line, something moved.
A shape—massive, sleek, and black as sin—slunk forward from the shadows. Its eyes were glowing, low and golden like burning coals, and its teeth—goddess, those teeth—jutted from its mouth in jagged angles that made my stomach twist.
It was just a wild wolf. But from the look of things, it wasn't here to play. It stood like a protector. Bold and brave.
It was death wrapped in fur and malice.
I
