Damon
The dungeon was a tomb, silent but for a drip of water that I think was to disorient someone and Selene’s shallow but shaky breaths. I sat in the shadows, head bowed as though broken, but inside I was anything but. Every heartbeat was a drum, a rhythm marking the countdown to my escape.
I rolled the locket between my fingers, the small, unassuming piece of silver that had hung from my neck for years and no one had questioned it.
To anyone else, it was meaningless; just another relic worn by a wolf who still clung to sentiment. But Leo knew its meaning. He had given it to me when our alliance was sealed. A token, yes, but more than that: a tether. Break it, and the message would be clear. Move now. War begins.
Selene’s whisper scraped against my nerves.
“Damon, you are too calm
