The Lunar Legacy
Her hands steadied, map glowing faintly, courage blooming, the hum a threat, spires looming.
A howl tore through the plateau—metal screeching, frost cracking, shadows lunging from the spires, iron-clad wolves, ice-blue eyes blazing, claws glinting, led by Veyra, pale blonde braid flashing, ice-blue eyes wet, frost-gray furs swirling, iron scars glowing. “Your blood feeds it, Lykos!” she snarled, Frost, her wolf, roaring, white and relentless, charging Sam, claws aimed at her heart.
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