Nathaniel's heart raced as he and his men returned to the Blackmoon pack's stronghold. The night was tense, with distant sounds of violence. The seriousness of the situation was like a suffocating garment of worry wrapped around him. They'd been duped, their true aim disguised under a cloak of deception. He urged his horse to speed up, hoping they hadn't squandered their opportunity.
They approached the stronghold and were faced with a terrifying sight. Fire danced in the night, and cries filled the air.
The attackers had penetrated their fortifications, and chaos had ensued within the walls. Nathaniel had a sinking sensation as he drove his horse forward, his soldiers close on his heels. Desperation spurred him on, with each step dragging him deeper into the fray.