The battlefield broke first.

Not Blackwood.

The rogues.

The moment Eva turned toward them again, something primal spread through the Bloodfang front lines like disease.

Fear.

Real fear.

The kind wolves felt in their bones long before their minds understood why.

The giant white wolf standing beneath the crimson moon didn’t look natural anymore. Rain slid across her fur without soaking it while silver light pulsed faintly beneath the massive shape of her body like something alive moving underneath skin.

Ancient runes glowed near her throat.

Her crimson eyes swept slowly across the battlefield.

Calculating.

Choosing.

Killian watched the exact second the rogues realized they were prey.

Then they started running.

Too late.

The white wolf moved.

The battlefield exploded.

One swipe of her claws tore through five rogues at once hard enough to scatter bodies across the trench line like broken dolls. Blood sprayed through the storm while the remaining wolves stumbled backward screaming over each other trying to escape.

She hit the second line before the bodies from the first even landed.

Fast.

Far too fast for something that large.

Killian barely tracked her movement through the rain before another section of the battlefield collapsed into shredded flesh and shattered armor.

Marcus stared in disbelief from the ruined trench.

“She’s not fighting them,” he muttered.

No.

Killian swallowed slowly.

She was executing them.

The white wolf tore through the Bloodfang coalition with horrifying precision, almost beautiful in the way avalanches were beautiful from far away.

No wasted movement.

No frenzy.

No mercy.

One rogue tried shifting fully to outrun her.

She caught him mid-leap.

The giant jaws closed around his torso with a wet crunch before she flung the body sideways hard enough to break another wolf’s spine on impact.

Screams swallowed the forest.

The rogues stopped looking like soldiers after that.

Now they looked like animals trapped inside a slaughterhouse.

Richard roared furiously somewhere behind the collapsing lines.

“STAND YOUR GROUND!”

Nobody listened.

The rogue Alpha charged forward through the chaos instead, battle-axe raised high while blood poured from the ruined arm hanging uselessly against his side.

Killian saw the decision happen in his eyes.

Desperation.

Richard knew the battle was already lost.

So now he aimed for one thing only—

Her.

The giant white wolf turned toward him slowly.

The storm itself seemed to hesitate around her.

Richard spat blood into the mud and tightened his grip on the axe with his remaining hand.

“You think you’re a god?” he shouted over the battlefield.

The wolf stared at him.

Silent.

Then she started walking toward him.

Heavy paws cracked the earth beneath her weight while the crimson moon burned overhead like an open wound in the sky.

Richard roared and swung first.

The battle-axe cut through the storm straight toward her throat.

The white wolf caught it in her jaws.

Just—

Caught it.

The battlefield went still.

Richard’s eye widened.

The giant wolf bit down once.

Silver metal shattered between her teeth.

The rogue Alpha stumbled backward instinctively.

Wrong move.

The wolf hit him before he regained balance.

One massive claw tore across his chest hard enough to split armor, flesh, and bone in the same motion.

Richard screamed.

The sound barely lasted a second.

The second strike removed half his body.

Blood exploded across the mud beneath the crimson moon while the remains of the Bloodfang Alpha crashed lifelessly into the trench line.

Silence followed.

Not complete silence.

People were still screaming.

Still dying.

But something about Richard’s death changed the shape of the battlefield instantly.

The rogues broke completely after that.

Panic spread through them like wildfire.

“No Alpha!”

“RUN!”

“GET OUT OF HERE!”

Entire groups abandoned weapons and fled blindly into the forest while Blackwood wolves stared in stunned disbelief at the destruction unfolding in front of them.

Killian barely noticed any of it.

His attention remained fixed entirely on her.

On the giant white wolf standing motionless in the center of the battlefield with blood dripping from silver-white fur while rogue bodies covered the mud around her like offerings left at the feet of something ancient and cruel.

His wolf pressed violently against his ribs.

Not afraid.

Never afraid.

Just obsessed.

Then suddenly—

A scream cut through the battlefield.

Human.

Female.

Tanya.

Killian turned sharply toward the western trench.

She stood near the shattered barricades soaked in rainwater and mud, clutching the stolen Crescent Stone tightly against her chest while two remaining loyalists tried dragging her backward toward the forest.

Too late.

The white wolf already saw her.

Tanya saw it too.

For one suspended second the battlefield narrowed down to only the two of them.

The girl who spent years worshipping power.

And the monster she accidentally created.

Tanya’s face twisted instantly.

Not fear.

Hatred.

Pure ugly hatred.

“You ruined EVERYTHING!” she screamed.

The giant wolf started walking toward her.

Slowly.

Tanya staggered backward clutching the relic harder.

“You think this ends with you?” she shouted hysterically. “The Summit already knows! The Supernatural Summit knows what you are!”

Killian’s stomach dropped.

Around him, several Blackwood wolves stiffened visibly.

Wrong.

Very wrong.

Tanya laughed suddenly.

Wild now.

Broken.

“They’ll hunt you forever!”

The white wolf kept walking.

Steady.

Silent.

Rainwater dripped from blood-soaked fur while the pressure surrounding her grew heavier with every step.

Tanya finally panicked.

Really panicked.

She turned and tried to run.

Her foot slipped in the mud.

The Crescent Stone flew from her hands.

Then the wolf reached her.

Fast enough that Tanya barely had time to scream before a massive paw slammed down across both her legs.

The crack echoed sickeningly across the battlefield.

Tanya shrieked.

Bones shattered instantly beneath the weight.

The sound twisted through the storm hard enough to make nearby wolves flinch.

The white wolf stared down at her calmly while Tanya writhed in the mud choking on pain.

“You bitch!” Tanya screamed through tears and blood. “You cursed freak!”

The wolf lowered her head slightly.

Crimson eyes burning.

Tanya’s voice broke harder after that.

Because now she understood.

Eva wasn’t sparing her.

Eva wanted her alive long enough to suffer.

Killian started moving before realizing it.

Toward them.

Toward her.

The battlefield around him faded strangely out of focus while the storm softened into distant noise beneath the sound of his own pulse.

The giant wolf sensed him approaching immediately.

Her head turned slightly toward him.

The pressure around the battlefield shifted.

Not weaker.

Controlled.

Killian stopped a few feet away from her massive form.

Close enough now to see blood steaming faintly against the white fur covering her chest and throat.

God.

She was beautiful like this.

Terrible.

Divine.

Wrong enough to ruin him permanently.

Tanya looked between them from the mud and started laughing weakly through blood.

“That’s what you chose?” she whispered toward Killian. “That?”

Killian looked at Eva.

Not at Tanya.

Never Tanya.

“She came for me.”

The answer sounded simple.

Because to him—

It was.

Tanya stared at him in disbelief.

Like she genuinely couldn’t understand what she was seeing.

The giant wolf held Killian’s gaze for one long moment beneath the crimson moon.

Then slowly—

Her body began shifting again.

White fur dissolved into black smoke and crimson light while bone and muscle folded inward beneath the storm. The transformation rolled through her body gracefully this time, less violent than before, until finally Eva stood there once more in the middle of the battlefield wearing the same dark red gown she’d entered the war in.

Pristine.

Not a single stain on the fabric despite the blood covering the ground around her.

Rain slid down the exposed curve of her throat while loose black curls clung softly against pale skin.

Killian forgot how to breathe for a second.

Eva looked toward Tanya first.

Cold.

Expressionless.

The broken woman still shaking in the mud suddenly looked much smaller beneath that gaze.

Then Eva turned toward Killian.

The battlefield disappeared again.

Just for a moment.

Just enough for the Mate Bond to pulse painfully between them beneath the crimson moonlight.

Neither spoke.

They didn’t need to.

Because the war had already ended the second she chose to come for him.