Dawn broke over the pack grounds, but Nash had been awake for hours. He stood at the window with his arms folded tightly across his chest, his dark eyes scanning the territory below. Sleep had abandoned him completely. His mind buzzed with anticipation and fury, a dangerous combination that fueled his every thought.
The moment had finally arrived. After weeks of careful planning, he was ready to strike. But precision was everything now. One wrong move would destroy everything he had worked toward.
The memory of finding Tiara with Zackary still burned in his chest like acid. The image of their tangled bodies had nearly driven him to murder. Only his iron will and strategic mind had prevented him from tearing Zackary apart with his bare hands. That restraint would serve him well today.
