DEVAN'S POV
Devan ignored every hand that reached for him.
Two warriors from the eastern watch pack, Rurik and a younger fighter named Tobin, staggered out of the wreckage behind him, both bleeding, both trying to pull him toward the triage point that the surviving healers had set up near the collapsed gate. Devan shook them off. His left arm hung useless at his side, the bone grinding when he moved, and his ribs screamed with every breath, but none of that mattered.
"Alpha, you need a healer," Rurik said, gripping his shoulder. "You can barely stand."
"Get your hands off me," Devan said, and the growl in his voice carried enough weight that Rurik stepped back immediately, eyes dropping in submission.
"The subterranean chambers are gone," Tobin said, quieter, more careful. "The whole
