Prologue
Seven months ago
Werewolves and vampires are traditional partners, protecting each other through the centuries with their complementary strengths. Vampires hunt the night, demolishing werewolves’ enemies, and werewolves hunt the day, guarding their blood-sucking allies.
Darien padded gently out of the tree line into the open night, his snout lifted to the moon. And then there were times like this, when the natural alliance was strained and an alpha resorted to whatever would protect the pack. This favor for the Vampyr would give his wolves some breathing room from the brewing vampire war.
Though it would never erase the threat posed by the demon inhabiting the newly fledged vampire now struggling to hold the South together against all comers.
The wind gusted, carrying the faint scent of vampire to Darien, and his mouth curled into a wolfy smile. Speaking of all comers, there they were. The enemies of the South’s new master were pinned between his pack and Trinity, a deadly trio of vampires who’d mated on a level so deeply intrinsic, even Darien’s sharp nose couldn’t always discern one from the other.
Eric, the replacement the former mistress of the South had chosen before her untimely death at the claws of a rogue werewolf. Gianna, his wife and a gifted empath. Jason, a burly former basketball player, husband to them both.
And with Trinity came their demons, the inner beasts every vampire must master.
Eric’s demon, the cold man, had sinned against Darien, threatening the one he held most dear.
Anger washed over Darien and he shoved it away. A reckoning would come later. Eric would pay for the threat levied against Darien’s son. Now, it was time to fulfill the age-old treaty Darien’s father had crafted with Elizabet, the former Mistress, decades ago.
Sharp cries rent the night. Behind him, the most loyal among his pack spread out along the tree line, their muscles coiled in anticipation. Darien gave the signal, and the pack leapt forward as one in a dance so sweetly compelling, the temptation to lose himself in it stirred.
One wolf, one pack, one heart. Was that not always the way it had been?
He shook off the question, and the accompanying shame. The pack had splintered under his watch. That was on him. Forging a stronger unity? That was also on him. A long road lay ahead of him, a road filled with hard work and the tenacity bred into him by generations of alpha werewolves. He would chase down the wolves that had strayed from his leadership and do whatever it took to either reunite them with the pack, or make sure they never posed a threat to him and his again.
