Chapter 122

• Rose's POV
• We arrived at the front of Damian's pack, Nightshade Wolves' territory, with the morning sun high and hard over the fields. The air shimmered with heat and tension. The guards posted along the gate and the battlements had already blown the warning horn; the sound rolled across the compound and set the hairs on my arms upright. From the other side of the stone wall came the quick, nervous clatter of hooves and the scrape of armor—men moving, preparing, the sound of a place waking for battle.
• I spurred my horse forward until the gate was a few strides away, feeling the leather reins bite into my palms. My mates were behind me, close enough that the rise and fall of their horses kept time with mine; their presence was a physical thing at my back—solid, dangerous, protective. Arrows tipped the air from the battlements, slicing the space between us and the gate, but no one faltered. We rode straight toward the opening, the arrowheads glinting like small, ugly stars.