The wind wailing through the cracks of the mountains, the scent of pine fused with something far older, something far more evil. The air hung tight with tension, and the earth waited. Serena knew the Onyx wolf lay awake in her, her senses in hyperdrive as she stood at the cliff's edge and scanned the horizon. It was no longer just something in the fabric of her life — it was — it had become part and parcel of the very being, a power that she could neither deny nor completely master.
Lucian, at her side, was quiet, gazing straight ahead, his left hand resting on the hilt of his sword. They had come a long way together exploring the Ruins. It was that sort of thing that was never said, that gave them a source of strength neither had expected but both had grown to depend on.
"We can't run anymore," Serena said, in a voice barely above a whisper.
Lucian was staring back, his expression inscrutable. "We don't have a choice."
