She wore no war paint now.

The mask was gone, the crescent-shaped helm that had earned her the title The Masked Alpha discarded beside her bloodied armor. Her hair fell in black waves, matted with ash, her golden eyes glowing faintly under the light of dawn.

Daisy—Alpha Diana of the Twilight Pack—stood on the edge of the battlefield, watching Troy from a distance as the last embers of war turned to silence. The keep was quiet. The wounded slept. And yet her heart beat like war drums still ...