SUMMER’S POV
The blood moon had finally ended, but the tension in the air hadn’t neither had the hole in my stomach settle. Brent came back just before dawn, the scent of blood and fury clinging to him like a second skin. He entered the house with an obvious scowl, his movements were sharp and every muscle coiled with contained rage. I instantly knew something was wrong.
He didn’t speak at first.
His eyes were dilated, almost black, his jaw clenched, and fists still balled at his sides as if he were resisting the urge to smash something. Or someone.
I stood up from where I’d been waiting on the porch, ignoring the way my heart thudded like a drum in my chest. “Is it over?” I asked quietly. “Is my brother… is my father okay?”
He didn’t look at me.
“Brent?” I stepped closer.
“They’r
