Damian's POV
When I woke, the ceiling above me was cedar, the air was thick with the scent of a healthy pack, and Ronan Vale was sitting backwards on a chair beside my bed, grinning like I'd dropped in for dinner.
"You know," he said, "most people just call ahead."
Ronan. Whose pack lands sat two hundred miles from where I'd gone into the water. I'd crossed half a country on broken ribs.
The moment I could hold a thought straight, I asked for a phone. "I need to reach Rick. My Beta. And Vanessa, the crew—they think I'm dead—"
"That's exactly the problem." Ronan's grin vanished. "Someone rigged a crane, planted a kid, and sent rogue hit squads sweeping the coast within a day of your fall. That takes money, planning, and ears inside your circle. Every phone around you has to
