A chill breeze whispers through the ancient trees, carrying with it the faint, metallic tang of blood. Ali, a shadowy figure cloaked and hooded, moves with practiced stealth through the leaf-littered undergrowth. Her senses, honed by years of Guardian training, are on high alert.

She pauses beside a bubbling stream, its gentle murmur a temporary reprieve from the forest's silent watch. The blood scent is stronger here, a grim reminder of the world's harsh realities. Her hand instinctively goes to the hilt of her blade, a comforting weight at her back. For six years, she has been a protector, a silent force in the shadows, her life a constant dance between life and death for the very community that once scorned her.

Suddenly, the woods erupt. A blur of gray and black fur flashes past, followed by the snarls and yips of a chase. Rogues. Always rogues. Without a moment's hesitation, Ali springs into action, scaling the embankment and leaping into the canopy, a silent predator among the branches, keeping pace with the unfolding chaos below. Her new assignment, the Alpha she is sworn to protect, is in danger, and whether he likes it or not, she is here.