Damon’s POV
The air smelled of blood before we even reached the outpost.
It clung to the trees, iron-thick and metallic, making my wolf’s hackles rise. Every step of our approach deepened the growl in my chest until it was a constant rumble. My warriors shifted restlessly behind me, catching the same scent, their wolves pressing against their skin in agitation. The forest was too quiet - the kind of silence that screamed ambush.
Beside me, Rayna walked tall, her chin high, her eyes glowing faintly in the twilight. She wasn’t the same woman I’d dragged out of the Moonclaw woods weeks ago. Something burned inside her now - hotter, brighter, wilder. Even her silence carried weight.
And it made me both proud and feral, because every wolf within a hundred miles would feel it too.
“Outpost
