Kael’s POV

My wolf had paced inside me all night, snarling at the thought of Elena’s hands on my son, Venessa’s smug grin as she carried him like some trophy. Every sound outside the warehouse made me jolt, every car horn or distant laugh twisting into the image of them slipping away again.

By sunrise, I was a storm ready to break.

Daniel walked in first, his hair messy, eyes bloodshot, but sharp as ever. Frank followed, carrying coffee that did nothing to cut through the iron taste of my rage.

“You didn’t sleep,” Daniel said flatly.

I ignored him, slamming the map back onto the table. “They’re in that...