Mark’s POV

The first arrow never reaches her.

I catch it midair.

The silver tip burns my palm as I crush it, the metal hissing against my skin before I throw the broken shaft aside. The Hunters do not hesitate. They never do. A second wave follows the first, a disciplined arc of steel aimed at one target.

Rissa.

I shift without thinking.

Bone tears. Muscle stretches. The wolf surges forward with a roar that splits the clearing. Fur erupts across my skin as I slam into the line of ...