The letter was just the beginning.
By the time the sun had set, a second message arrived.
But this one wasn't written on parchment.
It was written in blood.
The body was found at the edge of White Moon territory, slumped against a tree, its throat ripped open, its chest carved with symbols Bella had never seen before.
The scent of death was thick.
The warriors who had found the body stood silent, tense, waiting.
Dante's rage was a living thing.
He stood over the corpse, his fists clenched, his breath slow and dangerous.
"Who is it?" Bella asked, voice tight.
Chase knelt beside the body, his face grim.
"Not one of ours."
Sage frowned, her golden eyes narrowing.
"But they wanted us to find it."
Bella swallowed hard.
Because this wasn't just a kill.
It was a message.
The first letter had been a warning.
This?
This was a declaration of war.
And whoever had left it—they wanted her to know it was personal.