He looked down at the lifeless wolf, his expression grim. "We can't ignore this," he said quietly. "Even if it's a trap."
He lifted the body carefully, his movements respectful, and carried him past the barrier. One of the soldiers approached immediately, and Damon issued calm, firm orders for a proper burial, one befitting of werewolves.
When he turned back to me, he cupped my face gently, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes were serious, heavy with understanding and something darker beneath it. We both knew what this meant.
War was no longer approaching. It was already here.
"We're going to the Silver Moon pack," he said softly. "We'll bring your family here where they'll be safe."
My stomach twisted violently at the mention of them, bile rising in my throat as old wounds throbbed painfully. But I nodded, swallowing it all down because this was bigger than my feelings.
