THE COUNTERSTRIKE
The first light of dawn filtered through the dense canopy, painting the forest in muted golds and silvers. Wolves moved cautiously, paws silent against the scorched underbrush, ears flicking at every sound, tails low but alert. The pack had survived the shadow leader’s full-scale assault, but the toll was evident: fur singed, muscles aching, eyes haunted by the visions of what could have been.
Lykos stood at the center of the clearing, silver aura pulsing faintly, muscles coiled, senses stretched taut. His wolf instincts hummed like tensioned steel. Every nerve, every breath, every heartbeat synchronized with Aria’s presence beside him. The bond between them was no longer just protective—it had become a living force, radiant and fragile, vulnerable and unstoppable all a
