The panic in my chest had barely settled when the first scream tore through the festival.
It cut across the laughter and bells like a knife, slicing the false cheer clean in half. The crowd shifted instantly. Wolves snapped to alert. Parents grabbed children. Elders froze. The air went sharp and electric.
Ronan moved before the sound even faded. One moment he was beside me, the next he was in front of me, body angled, stance defensive, eyes scanning the chaos.
“What now,” I muttered, breath tight.
The answer arrived in the form of a rogue.
It stumbled through the snow at the far edge of the festival, crashing into a stall of frosted cookies. Wooden boards snapped. Frosted stars and gingerbread wolves flew into the air like sugary shrapnel. People screamed and scattered.
The rogue fel
