Rhett sat tall atop his midnight-black steed, Stormbringer, the beast pawing the dirt as if it too sensed what was coming. His cloak billowed behind him, the insignia of his bloodline, a twin-headed wolf entwined in flame, etched into the back in silver thread. Every muscle in his body was wound tight with awareness, his pulse thundering like a war drum.
Beside him, Magnolia's silver wolf eyes glowed faintly in the shadow of her hood. Her armor, dark lunarsteel trimmed with bone-white accents, molded to her body like a second skin. She didn't speak, didn't glance his way. But he felt her.
Felt her through the bond that had grown stronger with every encounter, every moment of shared pain, every night they didn't sleep because the memories wouldn't let them. Now it hummed between them like a live wire, sparking in his chest and pooling in his palms.
She finally turned. "If we die tonight, "
"We won't," Rhett cut in, his voice low, rough.
