Duskfire Glacier blood in the snow

her mate's call carried her forward before thought could catch her, the sound of him—of need—pulling her like a tether. she did not understand the urgency until her scent touched gjalla's nose.

morwenna. the sight struck her like a spear to the gut, stole the air from her lungs the moment she tried to catch her breath. for a heartbeat, she only stared at the bristled shape crumpled in powdery white, chest heaving.

"wenna," her voice crackled like she might weep. she crossed the last stretch in a few swift strides and dropped her haunches beside them, crown bent toward her sister. her gaze flicked once to blackfell—burning and wordless—before they anchored on morwenna again, softer. "you're safe, my heart, you're safe."

another look to blackfell, this time speaking in their mother-tongue, "what has happened?"