The rogue’s leap should have ended midair.

It should have slammed into the invisible wall of the Bone Gate and fallen back, writhing under the force of the oath’s magic.

But it didn’t.

It tore straight through the arch, claws out, jaws snapping, as though the ancient law meant nothing.

Draven moved before Elaria even had time to scream. His arm swept her behind him, his body slamming into the wolf’s with such force that the impact echoed through the forest beyond the gate. The rogue ...