For years, the Ashfang Pack thrived in secret, hidden deep in the forests where human footsteps rarely wandered. Life was peaceful—hunts at dusk, moonlit gatherings, the younger wolves learning discipline from the elders.

Sue, the pack’s healer, was the soul of the clan. She had always been drawn to the quiet strength of herbs, the soft hum of magic that flowed beneath the soil and trees. With every poultice she mixed and every charm she whispered, she wove a shield of life around her kin. The wolves trusted her with their wounds, their griefs, and even their dreams.

But peace shattered when the wind carried the sharp, foreign scent of iron and ash. Hunters. A small group, moving with deliberate steps just outside the pack’s borders. Everyone knew what that meant. The first target would be the healer—for without her, the pack would bleed.

The new Alpha, Kaelen Blackfang (a wolfish name that carried both darkness and strength), had only recently inherited leadership after his father’s passing. The weight of the title still sat heavy on his shoulders. But the moment he scented the hunters, his decision was clear.

He would not let Sue fall.