POV: Elias Beaumont
Blood splattered across my face as I ripped through another of The Mother's troops. Their body fell limp at my feet, adding the pile of dead that surrounded me. All around us, wolves fought and died as the enemy poured through the northern border like a flood.
"They're breaking through the left flank!" someone yelled over the chaos.
I spun around, looking for the weak point in our defenses. Sure enough, a new wave of The Mother's creatures had punched a hole through our line where Gamma Terry's forces should have been holding.
"Markus!" I called, before remembering my Beta was no longer at my side. Instead, Viktor Beaumont appeared, his silver fur mixed with blood.
"I see it," he growled, shifting back to human form. "This attack doesn't make sense. They're throwing away too many soldiers for a direct attack."
He was right. The Mother was cruel but never wasteful. These weren't tactics—this was a killing. But why?
