Fucking Vexley. Just sitting across from the Warden and his sons made my skin crawl. They were the ones who orchestrated the attack on my parents, and yet, here I was, forced to endure their presence. I should have wrapped my hands around their throats, squeezed until their smug expressions twisted in agony. But I couldn’t. Not yet. There was no proof, and those bastards were experts at eliminating witnesses.

I despised them just as much as those mongrels from the Southern Moon Pack. ...