It all started with a routine morning patrol. Dorian and Thalia were checking the western border of Moonshadow territory, an area that had been quiet for weeks. The night was cool, the moon half-full, and everything seemed normal.
Then the rogues attacked.
Three rogues came out of nowhere, their eyes wild with bloodlust.
It was common knowledge that rogue werewolves were dangerous, unpredictable, operating outside pack law and order. But these ones moved with coordinated precision that suggested they weren't as rogue as they appeared.
Dorian shifted immediately, his wolf forming larger and more powerful than most. But he was so focused on the two rogues coming at him from the front that he didn't see the third circling around behind him.
Thalia did.
She threw herself between Dorian and the attacking rogue, taking claws meant for his throat across her shoulder instead. The impact sent her sprawling, blood staining her shirt.
