The roots trembled.

Above us, the wind howled like a warning — or a curse.

Leon pulled me to my feet, eyes scanning the cracked altar and the cave’s narrow entrance. “Wolves,” he said. “At least six. Maybe more.”

“I heard them,” I said, still clutching my stomach. The child stirred again, not in fear — in anticipation.

“They aren’t Leon’s guards,” my mother whispered from her spot near the wall. Her face had paled. “They’re shadow wolves. Cursed by bone. You can’t kill them with steel.”

Leon unsheathed his blade anyway. “We’ll slow them down.”

I grabbed his wrist. “No. You’ll die. They aren’t meant to fight. They’re meant...