Klaus’s POV
The scent of blood was fading, but the image of the body still lingered behind my eyes. The victim was laid out neatly, almost ritualistically, with a small ruby placed beside their hand—gleaming red like a fresh wound.
A calling card.
The same damn stone had been found next to three other victims in the last year. The same that was found near Varsen City, outside the remains of that cursed forest cabin—where we had uncovered the brutalized bodies of Amanda’s parents, along with others.
This wasn’t random. It was deliberate. And it was personal.
I exhaled heavily and pressed my fingers against my temple, rubbing slow circles in a futile attempt to chase the ache away. Coordinating across packs was becoming a nightmare. Werewolves had long abandoned the old ways. Gone were
