Rhiannon could understand perfectly why that lycan did not want to accept the Keqzhara. It was difficult for someone used to being free to suddenly find himself bound to a destiny he had not foreseen, and something must be said: the Keqzhara spears were a destiny in themselves, they were the constant path of the protection of the lineage of Isrion, and it was a path that did not admit detours once it was the spear that chose you.

Unfortunately, the strongest of the Keqzhara had chosen, and she had chosen him, only the Goddess knew why. In the end, it became impossible for him to bear it any longer, and he had to reach out to touch it... but no one, in years, had seen a partial transformation like that.

Milo emerged on Maddox’s skin and his spirit remained there, restless and ready, darkening as he joined the Keqzhara in a strange way. Rhiannon recoiled, for that kind of power, or rather, that potential for power she had only seen in one other wolf since she had left the Watchtower...