Chapter 115

Third Person

Dread coiled around Xander's heart like a tightening vice as the urgent howls of his patrol guards echoed through the pack link, shattering the tranquility of the Red Moon Pack's late morning. The familiar rhythm of his heart quickened, anxiety clawing at the edges of his consciousness. It was a sensation he couldn't shake, fueled by the haunting premonitions that lingered from a dream—a dream that foretold a grim fate at the hands of rogue assailants.

His pulse raced as he shot out of the pack house, the echo of his hurried footsteps resonating through the quiet evening air. The scent of pine and earth mingled with the urgency that hung thick in the atmosphere. The sun above is a witness to the unfolding drama, casting shadows that dance in tandem with Xander's unease.

The patrol guards had conveyed the immediacy of the threat—rogues on the outskirts of the territory. Every instinct within Xander urged him to protect and defend his pa