Semua Bab Bound By Broken Promises: Bab 1 - Bab 5

Aria POVAlong with the sharp sting of Seattle's never-ending rain and the metallic flavor of ancient blood, the smell of terror and desperation clung to the abandoned warehouse like a second skin. I followed the renegade werewolf through the tangle of industrial waste while crouching behind a pile of decaying crates and breathing in controlled gasps.Three weeks. Marcus Chen had been chasing this specific monster for that long before he called me in. Pioneer Square saw three weeks' worth of mangled bodies, each one ripped apart with the brutal accuracy that only a wolf who had lost all humanity could possess.I clenched my fingers over my customized Glock's silver-core rounds. The conventional silver weapons, such as blessed swords, ancient artifacts, and ceremonial nonsense that were impressive but took too long to deploy, were preferred by the majority of hunters. I discovered the hard way that you need something that functions faster than pretty when you're up against a two-hundre

Aria POVThe Northgate Community Center reeked of old coffee and harsh disinfectant, with an undercurrent of tension that made my wolf shift restlessly beneath my skin. I arrived fifteen minutes ahead of time, a product of my hunting past, where tardiness could lead to fatal consequences, and used that time to examine the exits, assess possible threats, and select a seat that kept my back against the wall, allowing me to see both entrances clearly. Marcus referred to it as professional paranoia. I considered it a means of survival. The conference room was bland enough to fit in anywhere in America: beige walls, fluorescent lights that rendered everyone a touch sickly, and a lengthy table surrounded by mismatched chairs that had definitely seen better years. Not quite the sort of venue you'd expect for organizing a hunt for a supernatural serial killer, but Marcus preferred neutral territory for inter-pack discussions. Smart move. Put a bunch of territorial predators in an actual ter

All I could smell in Marriott's lobby was expensive coffee and air freshener. I sat in a corner chair where I could watch the entrances, wrapping my hand tightly around my third cup of caffeine and trying to make sense of Morrison's genealogy records. The connections were there. Subtle, but there.Beyond being the elders who had pressured Kieran three years ago, Davidson and Morrison were connected through bloodlines that went back five generations. Descended from the same alpha line, they are both part of a network of families that had controlled pack politics in the Pacific Northwest for over a century. My phone buzzed. Kieran: On my way up. I'd given him my phone number because the hotel lobby felt too public for the conversation we intended to have. We should be careful of places with too many ears and eyes. But now, sitting on my bed with files spread around me like a paper fortress, I was regretting that decision.The knock came exactly ten minutes later. Three sharp raps, t