They moved with the lethal precision of apex predators who had never known defeat.
Commander Thane's strike force fanned out through the swirling snow, their formation speaking of countless battles fought together. These weren't desperate rogues or glory-seeking hunters—they were the Council's elite, wolves trained from birth to be living weapons.
Silver gleamed in the aurora light as they drew their weapons. Curved sabers blessed with moon-touched steel. War axes inscribed with ancient runes of binding. Spears tipped with crystallized wolf's bane that would poison any supernatural creature it touched.
Reign's pulse hammered against her ribs as she counted eight—no, nine—figures closing in from multiple angles. The direwolf moved to her left flank, hackles raised and fangs bared, but ev
