Damon’s POV

There was the smell of blood on the wind before the messenger came. It was subtle, but clear enough to give my wolf the hairs up. I sat on the edge of the training range, watching the patrol unit come back with taut faces, eyes flicking towards the tree line, as though afraid of what was walking behind them.

One of them lowered his head limply, panting. "We got rogue tracks near the eastern border - fresh. Not the usual scavengers."

I frowned. "How close?"

"Too ...