The Bloodmoon Claim
Silver threads his beard, but age has only sharpened him further.
Bjorn Wolfhart. Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack.
Rudick stiffens immediately, shoulders straightening, stance rigid. His respect is unmistakable — every muscle taut, every movement deliberate. He is silent, waiting, ready to obey.
“You should already be on the road,” Bjorn says.
“I told you,” I say evenly, crossing my arms. “I will not partake in that circus.” I ball my fists but keep my hands by my side.
“It is not a circus.”
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