Chapter 130. The Scent of Carnage

My heart pounded loudly in my chest, each beat so forceful I feared it might burst through my ribcage. My wolf—wild, enthralled—roared for dominance, and Daniel’s wolf answered the challenge in kind. Side by side, we surged through the undergrowth, trading the lead back and forth with every fluid stride. Branches whipped past us, leaves sprayed under paw, and the rich, damp scent of pines and ferns filled the air. Occasionally, one of us would strike out, claws grazing the other’s flank, leaving faint scrapes of blood that stained our thick fur. Undeterred, we followed each other’s trail—an exhilarating game of hunt and chase—our senses so heightened that each snap of twig or far-off rustle set our pulses racing anew.

Then, abruptly, something changed. The air itself seemed to thicken, and the forest’s usual symphony—birdsong, rustling leaves, distant calls of other wolves—fell silent. Daniel and I skidded to a halt, claws sk