Hunter couldn’t sleep. The remnants of adrenaline from the rogue ambush still coursed through his veins, and his shoulder throbbed despite Logan’s insistence that he go and get it stitched up.
He sat on the back porch, the cool night air biting against his skin. Rogue stirred in his mind, restless and agitated.
"We need to do something," Rogue growled. "That ambush wasn’t just a test. It was a message."
Hunter grunted in agreement, his jaw clenched. The thought of Alaric lurking in the shadows, plotting his next move, was infuriating. They needed intel and fast. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps. Turning his head, he found Celeste standing there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
“You look like hell,” she remarked.
He gave a half-hearted smirk. “Thanks. You alwa
