Bound to the Enemy’s Bed
And in the chaos, she saw something—too quick, too strange.
Not all of the rogues’ eyes glowed the same. One, higher up on the cliff, had eyes not feral yellow but a slick, unnatural red. He wasn’t fighting. He was watching.
Directing.
Her stomach turned cold.
Before she could shout a warning, Draven’s wolf launched upward, claws catching rock, tearing his way toward the red-eyed figure. His roar was a promise of death.
The watcher disappeared into the shadows before Draven reached him.
Breathing shallowly, Elaria gripped her injured arm. She pushed back against the wall and forced herself to get up even though her knees wanted to give out. Kaelen was battling nearby, slicing through the rem
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