IVARA'S POV:

The screams of wolves still echo in my head long after the battlefield goes quiet. The hunters’ new weapon - some vile concoction of silver and fire, left strong Draven warriors writhing like broken animals, their howls seared into my bones.

I can only smell blood, smoke, and burning fur everywhere, and yet I can’t move. My legs are shaking, my throat tight with the memory of one pup I couldn’t reach in time.

Ronan drags me through the compound gates with a hand ...