The rogue’s body had barely hit the snow when the forest answered.
A low growl rolled through the trees. It echoed against the trunks, multiplied, became a chorus of hunger and intent. The sound slithered across my skin, my wolf stiffening with instant recognition.
Warriors shifted their footing, spears rising, jaws clenched. Snowflakes stopped feeling soft and harmless. They became ash. Cold glitter from a sky that had forgotten how to be beautiful.
The night did not wait.
Shadows lunged.
Rogues burst from the treeline in a blur of fur and teeth. No warning. No hesitation. They moved like they had been waiting for the exact breath I took before the attack.
“Positions,” someone shouted, voice cracking.
I did not need orders.
My wolf slammed into me so hard I nearly fell. She did no
