The gates of Shadowpine shuddered under the first blows.

Aria’s heart slammed as she sprinted through the inner courtyard, warriors scattering in every direction. Torches splintered, sending golden shards of fire into the night sky. The smell of smoke and iron burned her lungs. Kael’s strike was nothing like the skirmish at the ridge—this was precise, merciless, and aimed for the heart of the pack.

Damian was already there, a shadow against the burning gates, his massive wolf form shifting in a blur. Golden eyes scanned the chaos, claws scraping stone, fangs bared. Every growl vibrated through the courtyard like rolling thunder.

“Aria!” he called, voice slicing through the screams. “Stay close!”

Her legs pumped harder, dodging falling beams and panicked warriors. She could feel the bond thrumming like wildfire, Damian’s presence not just near but inside her, pulling her toward him even as danger clawed from every side.

The first wave of rogues burst through the breach, silver eyes gleaming, bodies sleek and lethal. Aria raised her hand instinctively. Sparks of crimson and gold sparked along her skin, tendrils of power snaking outward. One rogue lunged, and she flung the magic forward. The wolf flew backward, a scream ripped from its throat as its body smoldered.

The battlefield froze for a heartbeat. Every Shadowpine warrior and rogue paused, sensing something ancient and unstoppable.

Damian lunged, intercepting a rogue midair, fangs sinking into its neck with a precision that made her stomach clench. He landed beside her, chest heaving, eyes molten.

“You’re stronger than I imagined,” he growled, claws digging into the stone.

Her lips trembled. “And you’re going to get me killed.”

He shot her a look that was both warning and desire. The bond flared, hot and wild. Their bodies leaned toward each other for just a second—just a second too long—but the roar of the battle yanked them apart again.

Aria spun, blade slicing, sparks erupting from her hands as she caught another rogue mid-leap. The energy was intoxicating, terrifying, and she felt every heartbeat of the pack, every tremor of Damian’s presence, coursing through her.

Behind her, the courtyard erupted in chaos. Torches fell. Screams echoed off the walls. Rival packs, long-time observers of Shadowpine, crept along the perimeter, testing defenses, waiting to see which side would falter first.

“Hold the gate!” Damian bellowed, his wolf form a blur as he tore through Kael’s forces. Every strike, every leap, every growl was a promise: I protect her, even if it costs me everything.

Aria’s blood thrummed in time with his. She could feel him—not just here, but inside her, every pulse, every shift of muscle and thought. She raised her hand, fire and blood mixing in a dance that caught the light of the burning courtyard. Another rogue was flung into the wall, smoke curling from its fur.

Then a shadow moved too fast for her to track. Kael himself—or one of his elite assassins—slipped into the courtyard, eyes locked on Aria.

The world slowed.

Damian roared, sprinting toward her. “Stay behind me!”

But she didn’t move. Her hand flared, the magic wrapping around the intruder. Kael—or the wolf—dodged, moving with a speed that made her head spin. The bond screamed again, and Damian was there, fangs bared, golden eyes flashing with warning.

Their eyes met for a heartbeat in the chaos—hers wide with fear and something else, something dangerous—and he froze, caught in the same bond. Just a heartbeat. A moment too intimate.

The moment shattered as Kael leapt, claws extended, moving for her. Damian intercepted midair, fangs sinking into the rogue’s shoulder. The impact slammed them both to the ground.

Aria hit the stone floor hard, breath ripping from her lungs. Damian’s weight pressed beside her, heat and fury and something she could no longer name filling the space between them.

“You’re not getting her,” he growled, eyes locked on the rogue that had survived his first strike.

The rogue hissed, then disappeared in a flicker of silver, retreating—this time leaving a single warning howl that cut through the courtyard.

The battle paused. Smoke curled from the gates. Fires burned low. Shadowpine warriors caught their breath, eyes wide with awe and fear at Aria’s raw, uncontrolled power.

Damian leaned close, chest heaving, and for the first time, let his mask slip. “You could have died,” he said, voice low, trembling with something more than anger.

Aria sat back on her heels, trembling, soaked in sweat and blood, hands glowing faintly with the residue of her power. “I’m still here,” she whispered, almost defiant.

“You’re… incredible,” he admitted, voice husky, lips brushing a hair from her face. Their faces were inches apart. The bond screamed, pulling them together. “But you’re mine. Do you understand?”

Her pulse spiked. “I—yes.”

They leaned closer, just a breath away, the chaos of the courtyard and the threat of Kael fading for one suspended heartbeat.

And then the gates groaned.

Another shadow moved. Kael was back.

Damian’s hand clenched her shoulder. “Later,” he growled, voice breaking. “I promise. Later.”

Their lips were almost touching, hearts racing, bond screaming in wild, uncontrolled rhythm—but the enemy waited. And Shadowpine would bleed if they let themselves fall for that moment.

Aria swallowed hard, fire still glowing faintly in her veins, and nodded. “Later,” she whispered.

The night wasn’t over. Not by far.