The triplets sped through the forest toward Pine Creek, their wolves pushing hard against the night. Kael led the pack, his mind still reeling from the image. Behind him, Ronan's red wolf ran with deadly focus. Darian brought up the rear, his hand never leaving his jacket pocket. They were still two miles out when the scream shattered the darkness.
Elara's scream. Pain. Terror. Death. Ronan's wolf launched forward, leaving his brothers behind. His paws barely hit the ground as he flew between trees, branches whipping past his face. Mate in danger. Kill threat. Protect mate. The smell hit him first. Blood. Elara's blood. Then he saw her. She was on her knees in the town square, surrounded by the children she'd been saving. A man in black leather stood behind her, a silver knife pressed to her throat. Blood ran from a cut on her shoulder where the blade had already tasted flesh.
