*Xamara*

We move through the forest in wolf form, daylight cutting through the trees. It’s not the best time to hunt Nightborn, but the rogues insist we follow the trail now because they leave traces behind whatever darkness hides.

I fall into step beside Seamus, his nose glued to the snow, body low and fluid, his pale blond fur catching the light. He glances at me, ears flicking, and mutters through the mind-link, “It would be easier if it weren’t winter.” Because of my royal blood, I’m able to mind-link with anyone who used to be a part of my pack–even these rogues who have essentially formed their own pack,...