D O M I N I C
The scent of pine and damp earth still clung to my clothes, my knuckles were split and the rage that had carried me through the day was beginning to cool into a dull, heavy ache in my chest. My pack was on edge.
No, not on edge. They were a frayed rope, pulled taut and ready to snap. Adrian's death had cut a wound deep into our family, into the very territory we called home.
We had returned back to the pack, our Christmas and New Years holiday abruptly interrupted by the news of a human death on our land.
Johnathan hasn't stopped with his threats. Honestly, why would he? He had trusted me enough to allow his dok into the midst of werewolves, and now his greatest fear was coming true. We had taken his son's life.
I knew what the human death would mean. It would start a
