POV: Rowan Kingsley
"Get down!" I shouted, grabbing Amara and pulling her behind a fallen tree. Bullets slammed into the bark above our heads.
Elias dropped beside us, breathing hard. "How did they find us?"
"Luther has eyes everywhere," I said, looking through a gap in the tree. "They've been tracking us since we crossed into Blood Moon territory."
Three of Luther's hunters moved through the trees, guns ready. They weren't trying to kill us—just slow us down. The real danger waited at the pack house.
"We can't stay here," Amara whispered. Her eyes glowed with power that still made me nervous. Half Harbinger, half Luna magic—a mix that shouldn't exist.
I nodded. "On my signal, run for the river. Don't stop, don't look back."
I pulled out the small leather pouch I always carried. Inside were five black stones marked with old symbols. Magic older than the packs themselves.
"What are those?" Elias asked, eyes narrowed.
