LOGINDamian's POV
The valley is pure chaos.
About an hour ago, Viktor broke through the eastern flank. We’ve been fighting hard, falling back, and then fighting again. His warriors are fresh, while ours are bleeding, worn out, and barely hanging on.
I’m crouched behind a burnt-out truck, trying to catch my breath. My sword is slick with blood, but it’s not mine.
“Alpha.” A scout drops down next to me, urgency in his voice. &ld
Damian's POVThe valley is pure chaos.About an hour ago, Viktor broke through the eastern flank. We’ve been fighting hard, falling back, and then fighting again. His warriors are fresh, while ours are bleeding, worn out, and barely hanging on.I’m crouched behind a burnt-out truck, trying to catch my breath. My sword is slick with blood, but it’s not mine.“Alpha.” A scout drops down next to me, urgency in his voice. “He’s coming. Viktor. He’s pushing through the center.”“How many?”“Just him.”I blink, taken aback. “Just him?”“He wants you.”I glance at my warriors. They’re barely holding strong. If Viktor breaks through this line, it’s all over.I step out from behind the truck. “Hold the flank. No one follows me.”“Alpha—”“That's an
Selena's POVThe night is biting cold.Torches light up the cemetery, their flames dancing in the wind. The graves are new—two dark mounds alongside an older headstone. Christina.I stand next to Damian, my hand held firmly in his. The babies are quiet. Maybe they sense what's happened.Maya is to my other side, with Rina pressed against her, crying softly into her shoulder. She hasn’t stopped since she found out the news. Borgov was the first who didn’t shy away from her questions. The first who treated her like a warrior, not just a child.“He told me I had good form,” Rina whispers. “He said I could be a warrior someday.”Maya brushes her hair back gently. “He was right.”Around us, the pack has assembled. Warriors stand in formation, heads bowed. They might not have known the other man, but they refer to him as the stranger. Yet for Borgov, he was family. That mat
Borgov's POV"You're lying."Emilio raises his sword again, a wild look in his eyes, tears glistening on his cheeks."Elena Ahearn?" He laughs, but it’s a harsh, empty sound. "You’re blaming her for everything?""That’s the truth.""Truth?" He spits blood. "You've been feeding me lies for years, Borgov. And now you want me to believe that some dead woman is behind it all?""She’s not dead. Not back then." I keep my sword low, trying to calm him. "Just listen to me.""Why should I?""Because I’m the only one who ever told you the truth. Even when it hurt, even when you didn’t want to hear it."He pauses, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.I take a breath, willing him to understand."After Castor died, Elena wanted vengeance. She didn’t care about him; she wanted control. But she needed someone to blame, someone to punish.""So she picked us."
Borgov's POVWe close the gap. Twenty feet. Ten. Five. It’s just us now—the mud, the blood, the steel gripped tightly in our hands. The battle swirls around us, but I’m deaf to it, blind to anything but him.Emilio comes to a halt."It’s been ages, Brother."His voice hasn’t changed. Still rough, still low—the same voice that called my name a thousand times.I raise my sword. He does the same.Then we charge.The first clash sounds like thunder. Steel screeches against steel. Sparks fly. Shockwaves pulse up my arms. He’s as strong as ever, but I’ve got two decades of training under my belt.He pushes against my blade, and I hold firm."You look old," he remarks."You look worse," I shoot back.He abruptly changes tactics, swinging low. I leap over his blade, land hard, and press him back. He regains his footing, spins, and strikes again. I parry
Borgov's POVI crawled towards them, feeling the rough wooden floor scraping against my knees. My trembling hands reached out, finding Elle's shoulder. Her skin felt so cold—too cold. Gently, I turned her over, and that’s when I saw it—the blood was everywhere, on her chest, her stomach.Two holes. Neat. Precise.Nearby, a suppressor pistol lay, still warm."Elle." My voice cracked as I called her. "Elle, wake up."She remained unresponsive.My gaze shifted to Lia. She was curled up on her side, her small hand still reaching toward her mother. A single wound marred her back. She didn’t suffer long, I kept telling myself. She couldn't have.I pressed my palm to her cheek. It was soft. Cold."No. No, no, no, no—"I pulled her into my arms, holding her close to my chest. Her head lolled back, and her empty eyes stared at nothing.She was only two years old.I rocked
Borgov's POVDays turned into weeks, and weeks rolled into months.We kept pushing forward. The transport business had no idea of our inner emptiness. The trucks had to be filled and the goods delivered. Customers expected smiles, too.So, we moved and smiled.But when night fell, we sat in silence. Emilio with his chair, me on the floor, the fire flickering low. We didn’t talk about it. The knife. The blood. Aldric’s expression when he found us.We just sat there.One afternoon, we were loading crates near the market. A truck had broken down, so we were handling things on our own. The sweat, the dust, the scent of aged wood.Then a man strolled by, loud and confident, chatting with a companion.“Did you hear? The Alpha of Silvermoon just killed his own brother. Right at the pack house.”I froze. Emilio halted with the crate he was lifting.“Castor? The Bloodmoon A
The paper doesn't change. I keep staring at it, hoping the letters will somehow shift into something that makes sense.*Samuel Hayes.*My dad. The man who raised me. Who held me when Mom passed away. Who risked everything to help me against Elena. Who stood by my side.Damian's hand covers mine. "S
Maya's POV~The box is pretty old, its corners all crushed and the lid stained with some stuff I really don’t want to think about. I stumbled upon it tucked away in the back of a supply closet, buried under blankets and rusty tools. It hasn’t been touched in years. Maybe no one really wanted to.No
Selena's POV~The message sits on my phone like an annoying splinter.I've read it over and over since last night. *If you want to know about Kael, come to Bloodmoon. Alone.* No name, no explanation—just a promise that I can’t ignore and a condition I can’t accept.Damian is already in motion, maki
The car moves through darkness, headlights cutting a narrow path through trees that have stood here for centuries. Marcus sits up front with Damian, giving directions in a low voice. Maya is beside me in the back, her knife already in her hand, her jaw set. Caden rides in the vehicle behind us with







