The shot arced with supernatural precision and slammed into the second hellhound’s flank with a sound like a thunderclap.
It screeched—an unholy, metallic sound, more like twisted steel being torn apart than any animal cry. The force of the impact knocked it sideways, shadow gushing from the wound in thick, tar-like streams. It staggered, trying to recover, claws skittering on the cracked stone beneath it.
I spun to face it—
And behind me, something else moved.
Fast.
Louder than thought, deeper than breath—
A roar.
Not a scream. Not human.
A wolf.
A big one.
I turned just in time to see the second hellhound spin toward the new threat.
Stan.
He was massive.
Easily the size of my wolf, but leaner, fur the exact shade of forest bark—rich, earthen brown with silver bands along his
