They wove through the trees, their wolves chasing each other in a playful dance. His eyes were gleaming with wild intensity. Anne stopped, nipped playfully at his flank, and darted ahead. Damien growled in response, his wolf instincts kicking in as he chased after her. They leapt over fallen logs, dodged branches, and raced through the moonlit forest, their wolves perfectly in sync. For a while, there was no tension, no pack politics, no looming trials—just the two of them, their wolves running free under the stars.