My breath came in heavy huffs.
Beside me, Fenrir struggled to his feet. He was bleeding, his hand clutching his mangled shoulder, but his eyes were fixed on me.
"Kaelen?" he whispered.
From the mouth of the gorge, a second shadow emerged.
An ash-silver wolf.
It was massive, nearly my size. It simply stopped ten paces away and locked its eyes onto mine.
The world tilted.
The bond between Fenrir and me, the Iron Fang resonance was a steady, hot coal in my chest. But this new sensation was a lightning strike. It ripped through my spine, igniting every nerve.
I staggered. My wolf didn't want to kill this stranger, It wanted to crawl up next to it.
The ash-silver wolf dipped its head. It bowed, its chest touching the snow in a gesture of absolute submission. Then, in a blur, the fur receded. Bone snapped and reformed.
A man stood there. He was tall, his body was filled with silver battle scars. His hair was the same ash-gray as his fur, and his eyes were icy blue.
