DANTE
Federal vehicles swarm our gates like mechanical locusts, their black metal shells disgorging suits who reek of bureaucratic terror barely leashed by protocol. Through the war room windows, I count twenty agents, their fingers twitching toward weapons that might as well be toys against wolves who claimed this land before the US was a country.
"Department of Health and Human Services." Mike's voice carries the edge of a blade being drawn. "CDC. FBI Supernatural Division. They're bringing everything."
The morning air tastes of impending violence and desperate hope, a combination that makes my wolf pace beneath my skin.
Through our bond, Sadie's exhaustion pulses like a wound. Yesterday's healing attempts left her raw, power hemorrhaging through untrained channels. She doesn't unde
