Chapter 72

Draven’s POV

My hatred for Lennox’s pack would never fade—not until one of us was dead. I narrowed my eyes at him and snarled, “I swear by the goddess, Lennox,” each word a sharpened blade, “for what you’ve done tonight, I will make you understand real pain by stripping away what matters most to you.” Every syllable carried its threat.

No matter whose life it took—or how many—I would make these bastards pay for what they did to Maeve. At my side, Dorian shifted into his wolf form, and one by one my warriors slipped back into the dark tree line. We moved with taut vigilance as we slipped out of Tenebris territory; I wouldn’t have been surprised if more of their assholes were on our trail.

Only after we crossed our boundary did I allow myself to exhale. Holding Maeve closer, I bolted through the woods, my pack in tight formation until we reached our grounds. I snarled the moment we burst into our pack lands and raced toward the desecrated compounds. Through ou