ASHTON'S POVThe predawn air in the courtyard bit like Silvermane teeth, sharp and cold. Ashton stood near the mounting block, the scent of frost, horse sweat, and damp stone thick in his nostrils. The sky was a bruised purple bleeding into grey at the eastern edge. Moonstone Keep loomed behind him, a hulking silhouette against the fading night, its ancient stones humming with the restless pulse of the pack. It wasn't a sound you heard with your ears; it was a vibration felt in the marrow, a discordant thrum of fear, anticipation, exhaustion, and a low-burning anger. Hundreds of hearts, hundreds of breaths, all tangled together in a knot of shared dread. Ten years ago, this pulse had been a steady drumbeat of security. Now, it felt like the frantic flutter of a trapped bird.Rylan materialized from the gloom near the stables, his silhouette solid and scarred against the lantern light. He moved with the quiet certainty of a predator, but the lines around his eyes were deeper in the gre
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