The horn sounded. That long, hollow call that echoed through the hills — a sound no wolf ever wanted to hear unless they were already ready to bleed.
I was ready.
I shifted before the echo even faded, my bones snapping, reshaping into something stronger, faster, deadlier. The moment my paws hit the ground, I ran. The wind howled past my ears, my mind laser-focused on one thing: Lucien.
He took them. My mate. My sons. He paraded them through his pack, fed them sweets and false smiles, all while hiding who he really was. And now I had proof — evidence of what he'd done. What he'd taken. Not just from me. From her.
From Orion.
When I reached the edge of his territory, the scent of blood hit me like a wall. Fresh. Sharp. Metal and fur and burning leaves. The clearing was already chaos — bodies locked in combat, snarls slicing through the trees.
I didn’t hesitate.
I lunged into the fray, tearing through the first wolf that came at me — one of Lucien’s. I didn’t care who he was. His claws grazed my ribs, but I sank my teeth into his throat and dragged him down. His final gurgle barely registered before I was moving again.
I saw my warriors. My pack. Fighting harder than they should’ve needed to. Lucien had more numbers than he let on. He’d been preparing for this.
I looked across the battlefield — and there he was.
Lucien.
Still in human form, blood dripping from his fingers, his golden eyes gleaming beneath the full moon. He wasn’t fighting. He was stalking. Calculating. Like a wolf who already knew where his prey would run.
He saw me. Smiled.
I shifted back, chest heaving, blood running in rivulets down my arms. “Coward,” I growled across the battlefield.
Lucien raised a brow. “Still dramatic, Damien.”
I stepped forward, every nerve alight. “You took what’s mine.”
“Did I?” he asked, tilting his head. “Or did you give her up years ago?”
I didn’t get the chance to answer.
“STOP IT RIGHT NOW!”
Her voice cut through the night like lightning. Sharp. Commanding. Hers.
Everything froze.
Wolves turned, claws still bloody, eyes wide.
Felicia stood in the middle of it all — hair wild, her coat clinging to her blood-splattered frame, her face drawn with fury. She looked like vengeance given form. And she was staring right at us.
“Felicia,” Lucien said carefully, taking a step toward her. “This isn’t safe. Go back to the house.”
She didn’t move. “No,” she said, her voice cracking. “No more. This stops now.”
I shifted again, the change slower this time. Controlled. I rose to my feet, naked and soaked in blood, but none of that mattered. Only she did. And the truth that burned in my throat.
“Felicia, don’t,” I warned, stepping closer. “He’s a murderer. He doesn’t deserve your loyalty.”
She turned on me like I’d slapped her. Her hands were clenched, trembling. “What are you talking about, Damien?!”
I stared at her. Gods, her eyes. So fierce. So broken.
“He killed your brother!” I shouted.
The words echoed across the clearing like a bomb.
Her body jerked as if I'd struck her. Her eyes widened. “What?” she whispered.