Chapter 41

• The heavy, damp air of the basement was left far behind as Ryder carried me out through the shattered doorway, the cool mountain wind rushing to meet us. The contrast of the open sky—painted in the bruised, violent shades of twilight—hit me like a physical release.
• Outside, the Bloodmoon pack grounds were dead silent. Not a single enforcer or guard dared to step forward. Word of the Black line's fury travelled fast, and the scattered guards we passed kept their eyes glued to the dirt, shrinking back into the shadows as Dante walked beside us with the cold, untouchable air of an executioner.
• When we reached the edge of the clearing where Ryder’s motorcycle and Dante’s car were parked, Ryder gently set me on my feet. I didn't let go of him, my hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as the residual adrenaline finally began to ebb, leaving a heavy, bone-deep weariness in its wake.