Elara's lungs burned with each ragged breath, a searing reminder of the brutal beating I'd just endured. They hadn't killed me, not yet. That was a twisted mercy, I supposed. It meant they still had some use for me, some cruel game to play. But not anymore. I wouldn't let them. Not this time. The cold earth seeped into my clothes, a chilling reminder of my mortality. Had I escaped only to die here, alone, in this godforsaken place? Was this my final resting place? The darkness was closing in. I could almost feel it consuming me. The scent, I realized with a dawning sense of recognition, resonated with the ancient prophecy my grandmother had whispered to me, a prophecy of a destined mate, of a powerful alpha who would be my protector. Could he be...Ronan? The Alpha King, ruler of the Kingswood Pack, a man whose legend had captivated my younger years. Could the prophecy her grandmother told her about really be true and not just some bedtime story?