Alpha’s Claimed Mate.
“The Order, likely. They’ve got old magic, dark stuff. Those hunters weren’t human or wolf—they’re something else, bound to their master.”
I rub my jaw, mind racing. “How do we stop them?”
She leans forward, eyes piercing. “You’re a Skinwalker, Asher. As powerful as they are, maybe more. But you’ve barely tapped your gifts.”
I scoff, frustration bubbling. “Gifts? I can shift faster, heal quicker. That’s it. If I’m supposed to match those things, I’m out of my depth.”
“You’re not,” Lupa says, standing. “The Skinwalker can bend forms, manipulate energy, even disrupt their magic. But you’ve got to learn fast.”