The inner gate exploded. Stone cracked like bone. Iron screamed as claws tore through reinforced steel. The night filled with howls — not the wild cries of rogue wolves, but the disciplined, ancient calls of a pack that had hunted together for centuries.
Calla felt it immediately. Her mark burned — not painfully, but vividly — as if her blood were answering a summons older than language. Silver light shimmered under her skin, bright enough to cast pale reflections across the courtyard stones.
Adrian stepped in front of her without thinking. His shoulders broadened. His breath deepened. The wolf surged up, powerful and controlled, eyes blazing molten gold as he took in the intruders flooding through the breach.
Five.
No — eight.
No — more in the shadows.
Pack warriors.
They moved dif
