The night still burned in Draven’s chest like coal. The red glow in the dark—the intruder’s eyes—was burned into his vision, haunting him like a specter of everything he could not control. The forest outside the stronghold was still trembling, the wind carrying the aftermath of whatever dark force had been unleashed. His wolf was pacing beneath his skin, snarling and restless, demanding blood, demanding resolution.

But the enemy was gone. Vanished as though the earth itself had ...