Kael's POV
The dinner had been normal.
Laughter. Forest-scented candles. A bit of teasing between Forrest and Ridge that had nearly escalated into mashed potatoes becoming weapons. Opal had been glowing—relaxed in a way he hadn't seen in weeks.
Kael had almost let himself believe they were safe.
Until the message came in.
A rogue attack on the western border.
Alpha Griffin was on his feet immediately, his voice snapping through the air like a whip. "Let's move."
No hesitation.
Kael followed, his hand gripping Opal's as they sprinted out into the cool night air. The wind carried the scent of ash and pine. The pack's warriors were already shifting, howls echoing through the forest.
Then came the smoke.
Thick. Black. Wrong.
It rose around the siblings like a living creature. It didn't move like smoke—it slithered, curled, and surged as if breathing, as if hungry. One moment they were charging forward together, and the next—
Each of them was swallowed whole.
