Dawn breaks cold and gray over the Nightshade camp. I wake slowly, Kieran's warmth wrapped around me, his breathing steady against my shoulder. For one stolen moment, everything feels right.
Then the door crashes open.
Nightshade scouts burst through, chests heaving, blood streaking their faces. "Ironvale warriors," one gasps. "Two dozen. Approaching from the south."
Kieran moves before the words fully register. He's already on his feet, yanking on pants, tossing my clothes at me. "Dress. Now."
My fingers fumble with laces. Outside, shouts erupt. Metal clangs against metal. Boots pound dirt. The camp mobilizes with practiced speed.
"How long?" Kieran demands, strapping on his blade.
"Minutes. Five at most."
We rush outside. The camp churns with controlled chaos. Warriors shift into wolf form, forming defensive lines in the south. Women push children toward the central lodge. Elders take positions on high ground with bows.
Kieran scans the tree line, jaw tight. "Something's wrong."
"What?"
"They wouldn't announce themselves. Not Rhys." His hand finds mine. "Stay close to—"
The attack comes from the north.
Warriors explode from the trees behind us like a flood. Not two dozen. More. So many more. The southern approach was nothing but a feint.
"Behind us!" someone screams.
Ironvale soldiers crash into our unprepared rear flank. Steel meets flesh with sickening thuds. Blood sprays hot across my face. A Nightshade warrior falls beside me, throat opened, eyes wide with shock.
I freeze for one fatal second.
Kieran doesn't. His blade is already moving, cutting through the first attacker's guard, opening throat to spine. The warrior drops. Another lunges from the right. Kieran pivots, drives his knife under ribs, twists. The man gurgles and falls. A third rushes from behind. Kieran spins without looking, catches the descending blade on his forearm guard, and snaps the attacker's neck with his free hand.
Three dead in three seconds.
"Ardena!" His voice cuts through screaming chaos. "Shift! Fight!"
My wolf surges forward, desperate, furious. I let her come. Bones crack and reform. Fur erupts from skin. The world sharpens—colors brighter, scents overwhelming. Blood. Fear. Death everywhere.
I leap at an Ironvale warrior raising his sword over a fallen Nightshade woman. My jaws close on his forearm. He screams. We tumble into dirt. He kicks hard. His boot connects with my ribs. I fly backward, land badly, paws scrambling for purchase on blood-slick ground.
I'm clumsy. Too slow. My paws don't land right. The warrior sees me coming, pivots. His sword swings in an arc I should dodge but don't. The blade grazes my shoulder, burning. I yelp and stumble.
He raises his sword for a killing blow.
Something silver flashes in my peripheral vision.
A silver net drops over me from above, weighted edges pinning me to the ground. Pain explodes everywhere at once. Silver burns through fur, sears down to bone. I shift back involuntarily, the pain breaking my concentration. The net tightens with my thrashing, binding arms, legs, chest. Every point of contact feels like molten metal pressed into flesh.
"Kieran!" His name tears from my throat.
He hears. His head whips toward me, and horror floods his face.
He kills the man in front of him without looking—blade finding throat on pure instinct. Then he's moving, cutting through Ironvale warriors with brutal efficiency, fighting toward me.
"Hold the line!" an Ironvale commander shouts. "Don't let him reach her!"
Three warriors move to block his path. Kieran doesn't slow. He drops the first with a vicious slash across both eyes. The man screams, falls. The second lunges with a spear. Kieran catches the shaft, snaps it, uses the broken end to drive through the man's throat. The third hesitates one heartbeat too long. Kieran's knife finds his heart.
He's ten feet away. Five.
I try to crawl out from under the net. The silver burns deeper. My vision blurs. Through tears, I see someone approaching me. Ironvale armor. Dark hair. Cruel smile.
Rhys's second-in-command. Beta Bjorn. I trained with him for years.
"Hello, Luna," he says, crouching beside me. "The Alpha will be pleased."
"Bjorn, don't—"
He grabs the net, lifts it slightly. Fresh agony rips through me where silver touches skin. I scream again.
"Ardena!" Kieran's roar cuts through the battle chaos.
Kieran breaks free from his opponent, charging toward us.
Bjorn doesn't look concerned. He pulls something from his belt. A club, iron-weighted.
"Kieran, look out!" I try to warn him, but my voice is too weak.
Kieran leaps, jaws aimed for Bjorn's throat.
Bjorn swings.
The club connects with Kieran's skull with a sound I'll never forget. He drops like his strings were cut. He doesn't get up. Doesn't move.
"No!" I thrash against the net. Silver cuts deeper. Blood runs hot down my arms, my sides. "No, no, no!"
Bjorn stands over Kieran's body, checking for breathing. "He’s dead." He looks back at his men. "Leave the rogue," he says, voice flat as winter ice. "We only need Luna."
Two warriors grab my bound arms. I fight with everything I have. Kicking. Biting. Screaming. The silver burns worse with every movement, but I don't stop. Can't stop.
"Get her on a horse," Bjorn orders.
They drag me through the chaos of battle. Through blood-soaked grass. I see Darius fighting three warriors at once. Nightshade wolves falling under Ironvale blades. The camp burning. Children screaming.
"Kieran!" I scream his name until my voice breaks. "Kieran, please!"
He doesn't move. Blood pools dark beneath his head, spreading.
They haul me toward waiting horses. I thrash harder. My elbow connects with a warrior's jaw. He grunts, grip loosening. I twist free for half a second before the other one slams me against a horse's flank. Bones grind. Vision whites.
"Sedate her," Bjorn snaps.
"We don't have anything."
"Then knock her out."
Something hard—a pommel, a fist, something solid—crashes into the side of my head. White light explodes behind my eyes. The world tilts sideways.
I see Kieran one last time before darkness swallows me whole.
Still on the ground. Still bleeding. Still not moving.
Then nothing.