The preparations for the journey to the Iron Fortress were swift, silent, and brutally efficient. Within hours of Alpha Torin’s summons, the Blood Moon Pack had transformed from a recovering territory into a highly organized war machine.
Kael stood in the pack house armory, strapping a pair of silver-forged bracers to his thick forearms. His shoulder, though still wrapped in heavy bandages from the Storm-Hound’s bite, moved with practiced ease. The accelerated healing of an Alpha was kicking in, but the dark, jagged lines of electric burns still spider-webbed painfully across his skin.
"We take a vanguard of thirty elite warriors," Kael ordered, not looking up as Marcus entered the room. "No omegas, no young ones. Only those who have seen combat against dark magic. I want our perimeter t
