Chrome and Claws
He flicked the cigarette away and mounted his bike, riding off without another word.
That night, the unease crystallized into danger.
Raven was heading back from a supply run when she caught the scent so sharp, metallic and wrong.
Her wolf bristled instantly.
Hunters.
She froze in the alley behind the warehouse, scanning the shadows.
Too quiet, too still.
Then the first bolt sang through the air.
Raven ducked instinctively, the silver-tipped arrow embedding in the wall where her head had been a heartbeat before. Her wolf roared inside her, surging to the surface.