KELLY THOMPSON'S POV
The earth quaked beneath our entwined fury, a silent witness to the cataclysm we wrought. Alpha Biansky's breath came in ragged torrents, his every snarl syncing with the primal drumbeat of battle. I could feel the pulse of the North pack's territory beneath my feet, an ancient rhythm that had long preceded us and would outlast the outcome of our clash.
"Give in, Kelly," he growled, voice laced with a wrath born of countless moons. "Your compassion will be your downfall."
I parried his swipe, claws glancing off my forearm with a hiss that spoke of close calls and closer combat. My heart galloped within its cage, yet outwardly, my stance remained as steadfast as the oaks that encircled our battlefield. His strikes were relentless, but each movement I met with the grace of a queen who had danced with danger since her first shift under the full moon's gaze.