"We can't let them regroup," Draven said, his voice hard as stone. "We have to strike first."
The tension in the war room was thick enough to cut with a blade. Bloodmoon’s strongest warriors stood around the large oak table, their faces grim and weary from battle.
Kael, his arm still bandaged from the recent fight, shook his head. "We just fought a war, Draven. My wolves are tired. They're injured. You push them now, and they’ll break."
“We don’t have the luxury of waiting,” Draven countered. “Liana’s father has allied. If we sit back, we’ll be overrun.”
My chest tightened at the mention of my father. I had tried to bury the sting of his betrayal, but it clung to me like a shadow. Even after all he'd done, I never imagined he would stoop this low—allying with a threat that coul
