Darrians POV
----
They came at dawn.
Not just Marcus.
Not just his filthy Bloodmoon pack.
Four others marched behind him-packs I hadn't seen gather in years. All of them hated me for something. Old grudges. Broken alliances. Challenges I'd won. Or wolves I'd buried.
I stood atop the southern ridge, the wind howling around me, cloak snapping at my back as I looked down at their army.
They'd brought thousands.
We weren't outnumbered.
We were nearly drowned.
Beside me, Axel cursed under his breath. "Marcus brought every pack that ever wanted your head."
"Then I'll give them a reason to take a shot," I growled.
Heather stood behind us, armored now-not the Luna robes of ceremony, but armor forged for war. Steel and leather hugged her frame, her scent calm but fierce, the steady pul
