The younger ones-the newer generation of Rogues-were different. Their wildness was less calculated, more reckless. They had inherited a cause they didn't fully understand, yet they carried it with the same feral pride.
Kieran himself was part of the third generation. His father had passed the mantle to him after the rebellion, and his grandfather had been one of the first to align with BloodMoon.
The guards noticed me before anyone else.
Their eyes sharpened, and their bodies tensed, claws extending as they stepped forward to block my path.
"Relax," I said, raising my hands slowly. "I'm alone."
It was foolish, I knew, walking into the lion's den without backup. But I needed answers, and this was the only way to get them.
The guards didn't move at first, their feral instincts keeping
