AYLA'S POV
The camp buzzed with chaos—snarls, shouts, the metallic clatter of weapons as warriors scrambled into formation. Smoke from the blown gate clung to the air, acrid and biting. My lungs burned with it.
Kael's hand gripped my shoulder like iron. His eyes—bright, molten gold—fixed on the shattered gate.
"She took Nico," he said, voice low and dangerous, vibrating like the growl of his wolf beneath the surface.
"She didn't just take him," I snapped. "She ripped a piece of you out with him. I felt it."
He turned to me sharply. "Then you know I'm going after her."
I stepped in front of him, chest heaving. "You walk into that trap blind, and you'll hand them exactly what they want."
Kael's nostrils flared. "You think I care about traps when they've stolen my—"
"—your heart?" I cut in, my voice sharp as a blade. "I care. And so does the bond."
