They kept coming.

It didn’t matter how many I tore down, how many fell to my claws and fangs—they surged like a plague of shadows through the trees, snarling and snapping, refusing to back down.

But neither would I.

Not now. Not after what I’d heard. Not after what I’d seen.

I wasn’t just fighting for survival anymore. I was fighting for the truth. For Xander. For everything that bastard traitor tried to take from us.

I tore into the next rogue with no hesitation, my massive black paw swiping through its midsection and sending it careening into a rock. Blood splattered across the grass, but I didn’t even pause....