The storm broke before dawn.
Seraphine felt it the moment she opened her eyes the wrongness in the air, the violent tension vibrating through the stone walls of Nightfall Keep.
The pack was in upheaval.
She rose silently, pulling on her boots and cloak. Her chest felt tight, dread pooling in her gut.
Something had gone wrong.
By the time she reached the great hall, the entire pack was assembled.
Wolves stood shoulder to shoulder, faces grim, eyes blazing. Growls rippled through the ranks like distant thunder.
And at the center
Lucien.
He stood upon the raised dais, shirtless, his healed shoulder bare beneath the torchlight. But there was no vulnerability in him now.
Only wrath.
His eyes glowed molten silver.
Alpha power rolled off him in crushing waves, forcing weaker wolves to
