MAXIMUS’S POV

The entire hall went silent. The music stopped. The laughter died.

A man stood in the doorway. His clothes were torn, hanging in shreds over a body covered in dirt and blood. His eyes glowed with madness and hate. His mouth twisted into a snarl as his gaze swept over the hall filled with nobles, warriors, and pack leaders.

The smell hit me first—rot, blood, decay.

Rogue.

The man’s lips curved into a cruel grin. “Well, well,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Look at all these royal babies gathered together in one hall. What a pretty feast.”

Gasps echoed through the crowd.

Lucien’s voice entered my...