“Blood for Blood

Jaxon

The night was a knife against my skin, sharp and cold, I could feel the tension thrumming through my chest, every heartbeat echoing in my ears like a war drum. Callen was gone. Dead. And Carlton had the nerve to keep breathing, to keep walking among humans and wolfs as if nothing mattered. As if he hadn’t spat on everything I loved.

Elvira’s voice haunted the edges of my mind. “Jaxon, you can’t let rage make your decisions.”

I clenched my fists. She was wrong this time. This wasn’t anger; this was justice. Controlled, inevitable, necessary. Callen hadn’t just been a packmate—he had been a brother,...