We planned at the Iron Den long into the night—me, my mates, the remaining Alphas and Betas, every voice in the room sharpened by exhaustion and fear.
The map on the table was covered in red marks: hit sites, poisoned wells, burned crops, dead livestock. Every “X” was a wound in our territory, a warning that the attack on the packs had already started.
An attempt to undermine Laney as the Alpha and weaken pack loyalty to make both my and Sirus’ capture easier, inevitable. The packs may be more likely to give us up if they are starved out of their land.
But at this moment, Mara was still my most immediate threat because she had already tried to kill me. She’d gone dark after her last failed power play, but the word was she was gathering her own loyalists, promising the moon if they deliv
