CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Claws tear through the earth, sending sprays of dirt into the night air as bodies collide with brute force. The cacophony of growls and snarls is deafening, a savage symphony played out under a crescent moon. I can taste the metallic tang of blood in the air, feel the vibrations of the fight through my boots. Roman's pack, the Stone Pack, battles with ferocity, their brown and grey fur stained dark in the pale light.
Roman himself is a force of nature, his powerful frame moving with a precision that speaks of both his strength and his role as Alpha. I've always known him to be just and kind, but now, surrounded by the chaos of battle, I see the warrior beneath. His brown hair is matted with sweat and grime, his eyes blazing with an intensity that could set the forest
