Zara’s POV
The war horn kept sounding.
Each blast shook something primal inside me.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Like my blood had heard that sound before long before I was ever born.
Greyson and I sprinted through the main corridor toward the eastern wall while servants rushed aside and warriors stormed past us in formation.
Everywhere I looked—
Steel.
Claws.
Urgency.
The Blood Moon pack was becoming exactly what it had always been beneath the peace.
A war machine.
Davon met us halfway, already armored, sword strapped across his back.
“Scouts confirmed three separate groups,” he said quickly. “North ridge, eastern forest, and lower ravine.”
“Numbers?” Greyson barked.
“Too coordinated for rogues.”
That made Greyson go cold beside me.
“Kael?”
Davon’s jaw tightened.
“Missing.”
