Ryder POV

I'm standing on the watchtower when the convoy appears at the valley mouth—fifty enforcers in black vehicles, moving in tight formation like they own every inch of road they travel. Council colors on the lead SUV. Clifford himself in the back seat, I'd bet everything on it.

"They're here," I say into the comm, and I don't need to say anything else. Every wolf in Iron Fang territory already knows.

Because the thing Clifford doesn't understand yet—the thing that's about to ...