The van screeched to a halt in the center of the courtyard, the tires kicking up gravel and dust. Anthony was out of the door before the engine had even fully cut, his lazy persona discarded like a shed skin.
He hadn't felt the spike of agony or terror through the bond that usually signaled a mate in danger, but as soon as they had crossed the boundary line, the air had tasted of spent silver, and the copper tang of fresh blood. Knight was pacing inside him, a low, tectonic growl vibrating in his chest.
The scene in the courtyard was a testament to the c*****e. Dead rogues were being dragged away and the Silver Crest warriors were panting, wiping ichor from their blades.
In the center of it all stood Hazel. She was a vision of lethal disappointment. Her dress was shredded at the sho
