Chapter 20: Dark Magic Rising

The smell of burning wood and the metallic tang of blood filled the air as I raced through the dense forest, my heart hammering in my chest.

Gideon’s hand was firm on my arm, pulling me forward, but my mind was elsewhere—on the pack, on Silverwood, on the chaos that had erupted behind us.

I could hear the distant howls of wolves in battle, the clash of claws and teeth echoing in the night.

“We’re not going to make it if we keep running like this,” I gasped, struggling to keep up with Gideon’s relentless pace. “We need a plan.”

“We will make it,” Gideon replied, his voice a low growl. “But we can’t stop. Alaric is close.”

We burst through a thick patch of underbrush, emerging into a small clearing lit by the pale light of the moon.

I stumbled to a halt, breathing heavily, my eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement. But the forest was eerily silent—too silent.

“Where are we going?” I demanded, yanking my arm free from Gideon’s grip. “We can’t just keep running blindly