Death Wolf
Sera’s POV
“Make the necessary arrangements for his last ceremony.”
The command is cold, unwavering. Zander strides toward me, each step precise, confident. The muddied combat boots halt inches from where I kneel, rain mixing with blood and dirt on my skin. Before I can react, strong arms lift me effortlessly, pressing me against the firm warmth of his chest. His t-shirt, damp and worn, obscures my face, shielding my identity from prying eyes.