Aria's POV
Three days after Viktor's assault on Bloodmoon, the eastern territories were bleeding.
Not metaphorically. Actual wolves, actual blood, actual pack compounds burning in the night while their people scattered into the forest and tried to figure out what was left of the lives they'd built.
Viktor had moved fast after his Bloodmoon attack, faster than anyone expected, sweeping through two smaller packs on his western border with the kind of organized brutality that said he'd been planning this for a long time and had just been waiting for the right moment to start.
We were sitting in the war room at Bloodmoon, Lucian and I and Marcus and Derek, and the map on the table had more red markers on it than it had yesterday, which had more than the day before.
