Bound By Moonlight
Braxton roared, slamming the attacker down, but before he could reach her, the air around Emry changed.
The moon’s power pulsed through her, white light flooding from her body—pure, divine, searing. The rogue on her back screamed as it burned alive. But then—just as quickly—the light shifted, twisting darker, the shadows swallowing the flame until the clearing was half-dark, half-day.
Braxton froze. The air trembled. Her fur shimmered—half gleaming silver, half black as ink.
The last surviving rogue staggered backward, blood dripping from its muzzle.
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