The scent of rotting flesh hit Bella's nose first.
Then the buzzing of flies.
And finally—
The body.
Bella's breath hitched.
It wasn't one of theirs.
It wasn't even a wolf.
It was a rogue.
Or at least, it had been.
Because what lay before them wasn't just dead.
It was ruined.
Dante's jaw clenched as he crouched beside the body, his fingers barely brushing against the mutilated remains.
"This wasn't a wolf attack." His voice was low, dark.
Bella stared at the shredded skin, the deep slashes that ran from the victim's throat down to his stomach.
His eyes were gone.
His chest was split open—
Not torn.
Carved.
"No," Bella whispered, her hands tightening into fists.
Because this wasn't a kill.
This was a message.
Sage exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down her face.
"What the hell are we dealing with?"
Dante didn't answer.
Because he already knew.
And the realization made his blood run cold.