Reign lunged with all the fury of a storm unleashed.
Her claws, wreathed in frostfire and honed to deadly precision, sliced through the phantom wolf's throat in a strike that should have opened arteries and silenced its mocking voice forever.
Instead, they passed through empty air.
The shadow rippled like smoke disturbed by wind, its form dissolving and reforming with fluid grace. Where her claws had struck, darkness flowed back together seamlessly, and the phantom's low, amused growl filled the space between them.
"You cannot kill what was never alive, little omega," it purred, Kieran's voice twisted into something alien and cruel.
Her ears flattened against her skull, fury boiling in her chest like molten metal. "Then what are you?"
The phantom circled her with predatory patience,
