Blade POV
A sick smile twisted my lips as I crept closer to the Crescent Moon packhouse, the adrenaline of the impending fight thrumming in my veins.
The flickering lights from the windows illuminated the warriors lined up in defense, their stance tense, but there was something else—something almost foolish about how they held themselves.
"Look at them," I sneered to the rogues beside me. "Like lambs lined up for slaughter."
One of my rogues, a tall, silent brute named Garrick, grunted in agreement, his claws already extended, teeth bared. He'd been itching for this. They all had. Weeks of meticulous planning, patience, and biding time in the shadows had led to this moment.
The Crescent Moon pack would learn what it meant to stand against me tonight.
I stepped into the open, revel
