Author's POV
When the messenger burst into the war chamber, drenched in blood and mud, Alpha Brayden already knew it wasn't good news. The scent of fear that clung to the scout's skin confirmed it.
"What is it?" Brayden barked, rising from his chair with such force that the ancient oak beneath it groaned.
"My Alpha…" The young warrior dropped to one knee, chest heaving. "The west wall was breached. They came at night—Simon's warriors. Disguised in black. We were overwhelmed. They freed every prisoner."
Brayden's jaw clenched until it cracked. "Every. Prisoner?"
"Yes, Alpha."
"Losses?"
The scout swallowed thickly. "Seventeen dead. More than thirty wounded. Some may not survive the night."
The room fell into dead silence, as though the air had been drained from it.
