THE ALPHA'S FORBIDDEN SURROGATE
Huge, serpentine shapes, over a hundred feet long, were weaving between the hulls of the anchored Iron Syndicate warships.
"Sea drakes," Nora said, her voice tight as she adjusted her cloak against the bitter gale. "Cassian isn't just building an army of rogue wolves, Dom. He's bound the ancient leviathans of the Gulf."
"He thinks the ocean protects him," Dom growled softly. He reached behind his back, unsheathing his twin short-swords.
The moment the blades cleared their sheaths, their platinum-gold aura erupted into the stormy night, cutting through the fog like a pair of blinding lighthouses.