"….Father"
The word echoed through the forest like a curse.
Thorne froze completely.
The world around him seemed to vanish all at once, the screams, the fire, the warriors, all of it drowned with that single word.
Slowly, painfully slowly, he turned.
The black flames at the center of the clearing rose higher, twisting toward the blood-red sky. The wind screamed through the trees violently now, bending branches until they cracked apart.
Then something stepped out of the fire. No—someone.
A man Thorne could never forget even if he wanted to.
He was tall, far taller than any wolf or human should be. His figure was lean yet powerful, draped entirely in black robes that shifted like smoke itself. His skin was pale, almost grey under the moonlight, and strange black markings crawled along his neck and disappeared beneath his robes.
