Chapter 169

The night belonged to us.

Dante’s Lycan form thundered through the fields like a storm loosed from its chains, massive paws shaking the earth. I ran beside him, my white wolf smaller but no less swift, each bound a burst of joy. Our fur brushed with every stride, shadows and light moving as one beneath the watchful eye of the moon.

The wind carried our scents through the land, bold and undeniable.