The whisper would not leave my mind.
Ayla.
It slid through my thoughts like cold water, sharp and intrusive, and the moment it echoed again, something inside me snapped.
I screamed.
Not a normal scream. Not fear alone. Not anger alone.
Both.
My voice tore out of my chest, raw and violent, a sound that belonged to something far more ancient than a seventeen year old girl. My knees hit the snow, my hands digging into the ice as my wolf slammed against the barrier inside me with a force that made my bones shake.
I could not hear anything but the rogue’s voice. I could not breathe. I could not think. The world blurred at the edges until all I saw were white eyes and that twisted smile.
“Ayla,” Ronan shouted, dropping to his knees beside me. “Ayla, look at me. Look at me right now.”
I
