Damon had never liked leaving his pack behind, especially after an attack, but this was necessary. The rogues, the poison, the message left behind—it all pointed to something much bigger than a random act of violence. He needed answers, and part of those answers waited for him back in the city.
More specifically, they waited in the form of Ava.
The ride back to the company was uneventful, the long stretch of road giving him too much time to think. His ribs ached from the wound, though the healing process was already well underway. The poison had been a problem, but thanks to the pack’s healers, it hadn’t done permanent damage. What lingered was the question of **who** had orchestrated it and **why** they had targeted him so precisely. If the attack was meant to cripple him, it had failed
