Marcus didn't wait. Neither did the six warriors behind him.
Bones cracked. Skin tore.
They shifted mid-run, snarling as their wolves emerged—fur bristling, fangs bared, hackles raised.
They could feel it. A foreign presence. Power. Malice. Death.
And then, they appeared.
Reana and Ryder landed hard in the snow, her bare skin hissing against the icy surface as the explosion roared behind them. Debris rained down –splinters, jagged glass, twisted metal.
Everything happened too fast… too fast for Reana's mind to catch up. One second, she was straddling him, still flushed from his touch. The next, darkness swallowed them whole.
Ryder stood up, carefully pulling her along. "Are you hurt?" He asked.
Reana's head rattled. "No, I'm not. And you?"
He smiled faintly, "I'm fine."
She frowned, "But you—"
"Shh…" he put a finger to her lips, silencing her. "I'm fine."
But just as she was about to protest, a whizzing sound cut through the air—sharp and lethal.
