Gannon’s POV

The wind tore through the trees like an angry god, bending the branches until they snapped. The storm in the air was nothing compared to the one inside me. I stood at the edge of the northern ridge, scanning the valley below, my eyes burning, hands balled into fists. The bond between us had thinned to a fragile thread, but it still hummed beneath my skin.

She was alive.

But for how long?

My heart pounded, every beat like a war drum. Eleanora’s scent was gone, faded into the woods like smoke, but the ache in my chest told me she still existed. Somewhere. My wolf paced inside...