Chapter 33 The Vaults Of Vengeance

• The ruins of the Silver Moon Pack house didn't look like a home anymore. They looked like a skeleton picked clean by vultures.
• Charred beams of oak hung at jagged angles, and the smell of ozone and burnt silver was so thick it made Commander Valaria’s nostrils flare with a predatory instinct. She adjusted her matte-black armor, her dragon-glass sword humming a low, violet warning as she stepped over a pile of ash that used to be the pack’s main gates.
• "Careful where you step, Healer," Valaria hissed, her voice a sharp blade in the dead silence. "The shadows here are hungry, and they don't care if you're a rogue or a king."