The storm raged outside, its howling winds rattling the wooden beams of the Red Claw Pack’s stronghold. Rain lashed against the castle-like structure, thick and unrelenting. But inside the war chamber, where firelight flickered against the stone walls, an even greater storm brewed.
Talon stood at the center of the room, a towering figure of barely restrained fury. His golden eyes blazed as he glared at the kneeling assassin before him. The man’s cloak was soaked with both rain and blood, his once-pristine hood torn from the scuffle that had ended with him bound and at the mercy of the Alpha.
The air was thick with the scent of blood and steel, tension crackling like an unsheathed blade.
Amelia stood beside Talon, her arms folded tightly across her chest, though she wasn’t sure if it was
