The Black Wolf
The scent of warm bread and honeyed root filled the air, and he brought it to me on a wooden tray.
“You’re not hunting today?” I asked, surprised.
He shook his head with a soft smile. “Not leaving your side.”
I smiled gratefully and took a bite, but before I could even swallow, a strange humming filled the air, a low vibration, faint but growing.
My gaze shifted across the room until it landed on the Living Book. It was trembling, glowing slightly along its spine, as if stirred by something beyond our realm.
Zevarion and I exchanged a glance. My pulse quickened. I reached out slowly, hesitating before my fingers touched the cover. The moment I opened it, ink poured across the page like spill
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