The forest breathed differently tonight.
Kaden felt it the moment his boots crossed the northern ridge—an unfamiliar pulse threading through the trees, like moonlight trapped beneath bark and bone. His wolf surged forward, senses sharpening, heart stuttering into a hard, relentless rhythm.
Moonfire.
Not a full flare. Not a reckless surge.
A whisper.
Kaden slowed, every instinct screaming at him to abandon the hunt for rogue trails and follow the pull tugging at his chest. He told himself it was residual magic, a trick of exhaustion, the aftershock of too many sleepless nights.
His wolf laughed at the lie.
She is close.
Kaden exhaled slowly and changed direction.
The forest resisted him—branches clawing at his coat, roots twisting underfoot—but the pull only strengthened. The Moonf
