Dylan's POV
I held the torn cloth to my nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was unmistakable – Sylvester Darkmoon. I could vividly remember his smell from our past encounters. It was a smell that I had grown to despise, a smell that filled me with anger and a desire for revenge.
"What is it, Dylan?" Damon asked, noticing my tense expression.
"It's Sylvester," I growled, my eyes scanning the surrounding area. "He's been here."
Damon's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?" he asked.
I nodded. "Positive. I'd recognize his scent anywhere."
Damon nodded, his eyes scanning around. Within me, I could feel my wolf growl in eagerness—an eagerness to catch Sylvester. Sylvester is a strong wolf who had always terrorize other packs, looting and plundering. Building an army of radical rogues.
He had buil
