~Zoe~
Sometimes the most important battles don't involve claws or fangs.
While Caleb and Damon were locked in their primitive dance of dominance, I had a different kind of fight to win. The kind that would reach far beyond this room.
Mass vengeance for my best friend's mom.
"This way," Lyra hissed, guiding me through the chaos toward a secondary control room adjacent to the main chamber. She moved with that preternatural grace all werewolves seemed to possess, while I stumbled along behind her like the painfully human liability I was.
I caught my reflection in a darkened screen—wide eyes, flushed cheeks, hair a wild mess—and wondered for the thousandth time how I'd ended up here, fighting battles meant for creatures with supernatural strength.
Because someone has to stand for what's
