Six months of watching his operation become Scar'oth's operation.
Six months of taking orders instead of giving them.
Six months of the Shadowfang legacy—what little remained—being controlled by an outsider.
Six months of prosperity that tasted like poison.
Because what good was survival if you weren't free?
Karvesh pulled out parchment, ink, a small writing board.
Started composing carefully.
This morning, Scar'oth had announced: "I'm leaving at sunset for a Northern cell leader meeting. I'll return at dawn tomorrow. The representative arrives a few hours after. Ensure the blessed one remains secure until my return."
An opportunity.
Narrow and dangerous. But real.
Karvesh wrote quickly, precisely.
"To the chiefs seeking the blessed one:
I am Karvesh, alpha of the Northern Ravine pack. What follows is accurate intelligence that will allow you to extract your mate successfully TODAY.
