Just as the jaws began to close, a silver flash streaked through the air. Zoya’s spear found its mark in the tiger's shoulder. The beast roared—a sound of pure, unadulterated agony—and retreated into the darkness, leaving a trail of dark silk on the snow.
"It’s not a ghost, General," Zoya whispered, touching a smear of fresh blood on a jagged rock. "It’s a king. And you’ve just stepped into his throne room." Just as the jaws began to close, a
The cold air of the Himalayan foothills bit into General Arjun Singh’s skin, but he didn't flinch. He stood at the edge of the ravine, staring down at the mangled wreckage of a supply truck. This wasn't an accident. The claw marks on the metal were too deep, the scent of copper and musk too thick in the air. "It’s not a ghost, General," Zoya whispered, touching
"Don't fire yet," Zoya warned, her voice a ghost of a sound. "He wants you to miss." He stood at the edge of the ravine,