The scent of blood clung to the air like a warning.
The mutilated body had been left at the pack’s border, a twisted message from Dorian. The soldier’s crest, though shredded, was unmistakable. His severed head had been placed atop a wooden pike, his vacant eyes staring into nothingness.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep breathing. Around me, the pack stood frozen, tension thick enough to suffocate. Snarls and growls rippled through the warriors, some barely holding back their shift, muscles coiled, waiting for a command.
But it wasn’t the warriors that scared me.
It was Luca.
He stood completely still beside me, but every inch of him vibrated with fury. His hands, usually steady, trembled at his sides before curling into fists. His jaw was clenched so tightly I could almost he
