Damon’s POV
The rogues armed themselves in silence. The clearing that had once held fear now thrummed with something else - rage, purpose, the brittle edge of wolves with nothing left to lose. Metal clinked, leather tightened, claws flexed against dirt.
I strapped my own blades to my thighs, but my wolf was already pacing, restless, hungry. The bond burned hot between me and Rayna, silver fire threading through every nerve. She stood at my side, hair still damp, clothes clinging, her silver eyes unblinking as she fastened a dagger at her hip.
She was exhausted.
Garrick approached, his face drawn. “They’re waiting. The whole pack is lined along the barrier like a wall of teeth.”
A growl scraped low in my chest. “Then let’s give them something to choke on.”
We walked through the rogue
