Chapter Seventy-Five

The wolf stared at her—shoulders low, body taut, ready to pounce. Drea didn’t move. Her blade stayed half-lifted, but her hand had begun to cramp from holding so still. Every breath felt like frostbite in her lungs.

Then, from somewhere behind her—

A shout. “DREA, MOVE!”

Too late.

The wolf l...

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