Book 4: What Remains

Finn

I dive to the side as a claw scythes down, and my bleeding left flank crumples underneath me. Slammed to the ground, I swallow a mouthful of dirt, but I don’t collect another injury. The Moonlight Hollow wolf bares his teeth, about to snap at my throat.

Only fighting as wolves shrinks their imagination of what we can really do. And it helps that I’m larger, stronger than almost anyone from this beachside kingdom. So when I throw my weight forward and barrel into his ankles, he goes down like a pile of twigs.

And then kicks stinging sand into my eyes. I wince. He shuffles, but I don’t know where he’s heading.

“Enemy report,” I spit through the mind-link. “Can anyone—”

A lupine grunt ends the quiet, followed by the fresh reek of blood. My tear ducts manage to clear the sand from my gaze just in time to see a tawny wolf with familiar, olive-green eyes standing over the fallen Moonlight Hollow wolf.

Dead? Unconscious? It’s hard t