The aftermath of the battle hung like a pall over the pack's territory. Deep furrows had been gouged into the sacred meeting grounds, the earth stained crimson with the blood of the fallen. Diane hobbled through the carnage, her movements stilted by the lingering aches of her injuries. Her gaze was hollow, haunted, as she took in the devastation wrought by the rogues' betrayal.

Somewhere amidst the wreckage lay her beloved brother Marcus, his life brutally extinguished in service to the pack he had sworn to protect. The thought caused a maelstrom of emotions to swirl within Diane - sorrow, rage, and a thirst for vengeance that burned hotter than...