The wind carried the scent of blood and betrayal.
Draka stormed into the castle, the heavy doors slamming behind him like thunder. His claws were half shifted, his dark eyes glowing amber, feral, deadly. The guards shrank back instinctively as the primal aura he carried swept through the halls like a storm unleashed.
"Where is she?" he roared, the sound echoing through the stone walls. "WHERE IS MY MATE!"
He didn’t need a trail. Didn’t need a name. He felt it.
Deep in his bones, deep in the pulse of the mate bond. His Aria… was gone. And he knew exactly who had taken her.
Lucas.
That traitorous, delusional mutt had dared to touch what belonged to him.
Draka growled, the sound low and lethal. "Prepare the warriors. We ride at dawn."
"But, my king—"
"Now!" he barked, voice deadly. "
