It’s a call to action. A call to defend.
A call tokill.
As the sound fades, I curl deeper into the furs that smell of him. It’s not safety I feel—not yet.
But for the first time in a long time, I’m hopeful.
Chapter
Six
RYKER
Blood sings in my veins as I prowl through the mining tunnels, twelve of my most lethal wolves following behind me. Their massive forms fill the narrow passages, dark fur swallowing what little light filters through the ancient support beams. Above ground, Lachlan and twenty others will be engaging the northern distraction—but down here, in the darkness where my pack rules, I will remind our enemies of why they fear the shadows.
I catch their scent before I see them. The sharp tang of silver mixed with the musk of foreign wolves—Moonclaw’s elite hunters, by the smell of them. They’ve brought with them silver dust to mask their approach, thinking to use my pack’s notorious sensitivity against us.
Fools.As if my wolves haven’t learned to hunt through pain.
Eight coming through the main shaft, Leon’s thoughts touch mine.Another six trying to circle behind through the eastern tunnel.
My answering growl is silent but felt by all.Drive the six toward the Killing Chamber. The eight are mine.
The tunnel ahead opens into an old mining junction, support beams creating shadows within shadows.
Perfect.
My wolves melt into the darkness, becoming part of it. Waiting for our prey.
The enemy pack moves with silent precision, silver-coated weapons gleaming. They’re alert but relaxed, expecting no challenge. Until I launch myself from the shadows above.
My massive form crashes into their leader, fangs finding throat before the wolf can even yelp. Blood sprays across the tunnel walls as I rip and tear, using the dying wolf’s body as a shield against the silver-tipped spears of the others. The taste of his lifeblood fills my mouth, hot and metallic and somehow sweeter for being an enemy’s.
My pack erupts from every shadow, the junction exploding into savage violence. These aren’t the controlled fights of pack challenges with their rules and restraint. This is old violence, primal and merciless.
A silver blade scores my flank, burning like molten metal against my skin. I turn on my attacker, lips pulled back from blood-stained fangs. The Moonclaw wolf has time for one startled yelp before my jaws crush his spine, the satisfying crack echoing off the stone walls.
The men begin to shift, dropping their weapons in a desperate attempt to save their hides.
It won’t work. My people are too powerful for these runts. We are forged from shame and pain, tempered by brutal survival where they have grown soft with loving domestication.
I can feel Kitara’s presence in my mind, our bond humming with shared sensation. I push the violence toward her, let her feel the savagery flowing through my veins. I need her to understand exactly the kind of monster who’s claimed her. I need her to know the violence I will unleash to keep her by my side.
Alpha!Lachlan’s thoughts cut through the battle-haze. The northern group has been turned back.Our people await your command.
I stand in the carnage of the junction, blood dripping from my muzzle, bodies broken around me. Only three of the original eight still breathe, pinned down by my wolves, their eyes wide with terror.
Bring me the weakest, I command.Kill the rest.
The survivor they bring me wears Thaddeus’s personal mark—one of the Grand Alpha’s own hunters.
Good.
I shift back to human form, my naked body painted in blood and silver burns that are already healing. The pain is nothing compared to the satisfaction of victory.
“Tell your Alpha what you found in these tunnels,” I growl, crouching before the terrified wolf. “Tell him what happens to those who try to steal from the Shadowmist alpha.”
“Please...” the wolf whimpers, his scent thick with fear. “We were only meant to scout?—”
