The Alpha's Abandoned Mate
he breathed, but there was something under his voice, something breaking.
The mist thickened, swirling in patterns too deliberate to be wind. The silver fog twisted into spirals that formed a pathway leading toward them. And then, out of that glowing fog, they stepped.
The celestial hunters.
Their shapes were wolf-like but wrong, too tall, too thin, spines stretching upward like ribs trying to escape their bodies. Their fur glowed with shifting constellations, and their eyes burned bright white without pupils. Every step they took crushed the air around them.