Chapter 27
Apr 17, 2025
Damien’s heart pounded in his chest like a war drum as he sped through the dense forest, the towering trees casting long shadows across the narrow road. His tires skidded slightly on the loose gravel, but he barely noticed. His focus was locked on the distant glow of the packhouse, its familiar silhouette barely visible through the trees. The moment he rolled down the window, the scent hit him—blood. It was thick, overwhelming, mixed with the acrid stench of smoke and the metallic tang of violence.
His wolf stirred uneasily beneath his skin, a restless growl vibrating through his chest. Another attack. His muscles tensed, his vision sharpening as his instincts screamed for him to move faster, to shift, to fight. He gritted his teeth and pushed the car harder, the engine roaring as he closed the distance.
His hands clenched around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. Lucien. He already knew. It had to be him. This was no random rogue ambush—it was too well-timed, too precise.
As soon as he pulled up to the packhouse, the heavy oak doors swung open, and Xavier, his Beta, rushed out, his face tight with urgency.
“Damien,” Xavier called, his chest heaving as he ran toward him. His dark hair was disheveled, his shirt ripped, a clear sign he had shifted during the fight.
Damien slammed the car door shut. “What happened?”
Xavier wiped a smear of blood from his face, his expression grim. “They hit us again. Came out of nowhere, just like last time. They didn’t go for supplies or land. They went for our people.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “We lost… the clairvoyant.”
Damien’s blood turned to ice. “What?”
Xavier nodded, jaw tight. “She didn’t make it. They went straight for her, as if they knew she was their biggest threat.”
Damien’s mind raced. The clairvoyant had been the only one who might have uncovered Lucien’s plan before it was too late. Now she was dead. He felt the weight of the loss settle in his chest like a stone.
His fingers twitched at his sides, his wolf howling for revenge. He took a slow, deep breath, forcing himself to remain in control. He would grieve later. Now, he needed answers.
“Tell me you caught one,” Damien said, his voice like steel.
Xavier gave a sharp nod. “We did. He’s still half-alive. Maybe you can get an answer out of him.”
“Where is he?”
“The holding cells. He’s still half alive so you might get an answer out of him.”
