Noah Thorne sat red faced with his skin sliding from human flesh to fur and back again. “Valkenaar is going to retaliate.” His voice boomed through the dining hall where he’d called all five of his Clan Betas together.
Alpha’s is what we really were. But Noah would never allow anyone in the Pack to hold a title he believed belonged exclusively to him.
“Double the patrols.”
I fought not to roll my eyes. As if that would make any difference. If Declan Valkenaar—the Pacific Northwest Pack Alpha—wanted to get to us, a few more patrols would make no difference. And having advance notice to our impending deaths didn’t change the fact that death was still impending.
**off to my writer cave I go….