The moon hung high and cold above the forests beyond the borders of Damian’s territory, casting long shadows over the rogue camp.A procession of darkness moved silently beneath the trees—rogues, dozens of them, now empowered by Zara’s dark potions, their eyes glowing faintly with unnatural strength. Their snarls were muted, restrained. Their purpose was clear. Their hunger for blood even clearer.

It would take them three days to reach the heart of Damian’s pack.

And they would march ...