Marked by Fire & Fang
They were rogues—strays with no pack, led by someone far more dangerous.
Lilly’s wolf burst free in response, flooding her with heat and feral power. Her instincts sharpened: her senses expanded, every sound crystal clear, every scent a map. She could smell the rogues’ stench: desperation, ruin, bloodlust. And she smelled something else—her mate’s fear. She lunged forward.
Link drew his sword, crossing the threshold to protect her. But Lilly was already in motion. Her body moved as though on autopilot—an echo of battles fought before her amnesia stole those memories. She sprang into the nearest rogue, muscles coiling and releasing with savage precision.
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