The night air was sharp and heavy when Nox arrived at the Ashborne Clan’s territory. He traveled far and he doesn't care. His aura pulsed with anger, spilling into the shadows around him like smoke. Every step he took left silence in its wake, silence filled only by his controlled breathing and the rhythm of his boots crushing the dirt path.
He was done waiting. He honored what Darryl told him—to never start a war with the Ashborne clan, but he was done with patience. He was done with Alistair’s twisted games. Who is he to do that to his mate?
When he reached the great iron gates of the Ashborne Clan, vampire guards instantly tensed. They knew him, they knew Nox's great feats as a werewolf.
“I demand Alistair. Where is he?” Nox’s voice thundered, cold and unshaken. His words carried so
