The early morning sun crept through the shattered windows of the pack house, its rays doing little to ease the tension gripping the pack.
The attack had been a warning, but the scars it left were far deeper than the claw marks on the walls or the blood staining the earth.
Amelia stood in the war room, her father’s journal clutched tightly in one hand while the other gripped the edge of the table.
Around her, the room was filled with familiar faces—Killian and Liam flanking her, Jackson pacing, and Chloe seated with a grim expression.
Downstairs, the captured rogue sat in the pack’s reinforced interrogation chamber, a sinister energy radiating from him that made Amelia’s stomach twist.
“We need answers,” Jackson growled, his fists clenched. “This isn’t just about the attack—it’s abou
