The vampire war horns rolled across the western border like distant thunder, low and resonant, vibrating through the trees and into Lyra’s bones. Each note carried centuries of calculated hunger, the sound designed to unsettle wolf instincts and remind every living creature in the territory that the night belonged to more than just fur and claw. The pack froze mid-step, ears pricked, hackles raised as the horns sounded again, closer this time, carried on the cold wind sweeping down from the river.Kael’s arm tightened around Lyra’s waist, pulling her even closer against his blood-streaked chest. His body radiated heat despite the wounds still weeping across his ribs and shoulder and the mate bond flared between them, hot and possessive, a living flame that cut through the exhaustion and fear. She felt his wolf surge beneath his skin, not just in rage but in the deep, primal need to claim and protect what was his. Even now, with an army on the horizon, his hand slid lower on her hip
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