A Price in Blood and Silver

ROMAN

A father's worst nightmare played out before my eyes. My son—blood of my blood—held at knifepoint by a rogue who'd already drawn blood. The thin crimson line on Fabian's neck burned into my vision like a brand.

"Let him go," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. Every muscle in my body coiled tight, ready to spring. "This ends now."

The rogue—Damon—tightened his grip on my son, pressing the silver blade harder against Fabian's throat. Silver. The one metal that could permanently scar a werewolf. The one substance that could kill us more easily than anything else.

"Stay back!" Damon's eyes darted wildly, the whites visible all around his irises. "I told you, I'll kill him!"

Behind me, I could feel Marcus and Gage shifting positions, looking for an opening. I held up a hand, stopping them. One wrong move and that blade would slice through my son's throat.