Chapter 19. Wolves at the Gate

Light cut the night wide open. So did Magnus’s voice.

The Wolves’ engines idled low, growling like predators circling meat. Dust swirled under the glare, catching in Riven’s throat. Her scraped palms burned, her shoulder ached, but none of it mattered.

Magnus Wolfe stood at the front, towering, eyes like knives. His shadow stretched long across the cracked asphalt, swallowing Axel and Riven where they stood.

“You just made the worst mistake of your life, ghost girl,” he said again, voice carrying like thunder.

Riven’s pulse hammered. Every nerve screamed at her to step back, to hide behind Axel. But she forced herself to lift her chin, to meet Magnus’s gaze head-on.

“My father’s death wasn’t a mistake,” she said. Her voice shook, but it didn’t break. “And neither am I.”

The Wolves murmured, shifting on their bikes, the weight of her words rippling through the circle.

Magnus’s smirk curved cruel. “Samuel Hale was a debt that came due. You? Yo