Desmond
The run from the Wildfire Pack House to the border of the Diamond Moon territory was the most brutal, desperate act of my life. I ran for hours through neutral ground, pushing my wolf past the point of pain and into a searing, exhausted mania. My muscles were screaming, my lungs burned with every ragged breath, and the wounds from the ventilation shaft escape were crusted and bleeding under my matted fur.
I wasn't running as Alpha-in-waiting, or even as Desmond Conrod. I was running as a courier of vengeance. Every stride was a promise: Alaric would fall, and I would be the reason.
When the scent of Diamond Moon finally hit my nose—a clean, sharp scent of pine, gold, and powerful Alpha authority—I collapsed. I shifted back behind a thick cluster of boulders, retching bile onto t
