Too Late To Want Me: his reject, her rising
Every strike, every parry, every movement was a dance of survival and dominance.
I caught glimpses of faces—rogues I didn’t recognize fully, but symbols I knew, remnants of my past that sent a shiver through me. They had come for me, personally. They had waited for this moment, and now they had their chance.
The battle was brutal, chaotic, and unrelenting. Pack members clashed with rogues in the snow-covered forest, magic flaring, claws tearing, teeth flashing. My wolf roared, a sound of fury and defiance, and I let her guide me, unleashing every ounce of strength, speed, and ferocity I possessed.
Bab Populer