Deon's POV
Deon pushed his vehicle to its limits racing back to his territory, dread clawing at his chest with each passing mile. The familiar scent markers of his pack lands should have brought relief, but instead they carried the metallic tang of blood and death.
His worst fears materialized as he reached the packhouse. Bodies of his warriors lay scattered across the grounds, their lifeless forms testament to a brutally efficient assault. The distinctive scent of Joseph's Beta lingered in the air like a mocking signature.
Joseph had always been defensive, reactive. Deon had built his strategies around that predictable pattern. But killing Chester had apparently awakened something darker in the rival Alpha. This wasn't defense anymore. This was calculated, devastating offense.
He should have seen this coming. Should have anticipated that Joseph would strike while he was away. Instead, he'd grown as careless as Chester, and now his son would pay for that arrogance.
