THE COLD WOLF'S MATE
“The prophecy was never yours to claim, Alpha. She was never yours.”
Elara stepped forward before I could stop her. “Who are you?”
“Don’t,” I warned, catching her arm.
But the figure raised its head, and for the first time I saw its eyes, hollow, ringed with silver light, like a wolf’s, but dead.
My wolf snarled, teeth bared. “Rogue,” I spat.
The figure smiled, thin and sharp. “Not rogue. I'm the Shadow.”
It moved then, too fast, darting back into the trees.
Sikat na Kabanata