The iron hinges of the tower door groaned in protest before a localized explosive charge blew them cleanly out of the stone frame.

The heavy oak and metal door crashed inward, throwing up a blinding cloud of dust, smoke, and splintered wood. Lyra shielded her face, coughing as the acrid smell of s

The agonizing symphony of snapping bones echoed off the freezing stone walls of the tower, but to Lyra, it didn't sound like pain. It sounded like freedom.

For twenty years, her inner wolf had been a silent, dormant ghost, suffocated by the disdain of her pack and the crushing weight of her own in

"Lyra," Vane breathed, the name rasping from his throat like a prayer.

He didn't need her to shift back to human form to know it was her. The mate bond sang in his veins, a triumphant, golden melody that completely eradicated the terrifying void of the feral madness. For the first time in his curs