It had been a while since what was left of the Bright Moon pack had left their kingdom—long enough that Danger had lost all the meat on his bones and now resembled a member of the undead. He had never been an incredibly “handsome” guy in the first place (it was sort of hard to groom yourself when you couldn’t see the twigs and leaves in your fur) but now the obsidian soldier appeared absolutely haunting. His sooty pelt hung to his skeleton like a tuxedo on a wire hanger, doing nothing to hide the jut of his hips or the sad definition of his ribcage. His already freakish façade was made impossibly more alien by the gauntness of his facial structure, handsome cheekbones sharp enough to cut diamond and his china blue eyes wide within deep sockets. Perhaps Danger might have passed for attractive in a wild, strung-out drug addict sort of way, all rumpled and skinny and withdrawn . . . but nobody could look at him and call him “okay.” It was clear the blind bat needed a pack. Well—maybe not need. After all, he’d survived on his own for longer than he’d ever stayed in a pack territory. But hunting alongside others with working eyeballs was a helluva lot more convenient than trying to snap up scraps on his own . . . Living in Summer’s castle had drastically improved the loner’s quality of life. Without a castle . . .

Let’s just say Danger was super dedicated to helping his adopted family find their next home. If only so he wouldn’t like, starve to death.

For the most part the dark dog had explored on his own, leaving Summer and young Nzingha to their search. Always Danger would return to them if he had any news—but, seeing as there wasn’t much news, he did not return often. It wasn’t that the brute disliked his ex-alpha; actually, Danger respected Summer more than any person he had ever met, and was loathe to leave his side even if Summer technically no longer had power over his life. Simply put, Danger was an independent soul. He was used to doing things alone. It felt more comfortable. Nobody to judge him if he tripped on a root, nobody to harass him for having a splash of mud on his shoulder he couldn’t reach . . . oh, gods, why was he looking for another pack, again?

Panic made Danger’s paws swifter than usual and he nearly face-planted into a puddle before hastily correcting his course. Trying to find a suitable sanctuary had viscerally reminded the black dragon of all the reasons he had left his original pack in the first place. Not everyone was as honorable as Summer. Not many wolves would see Danger’s sightless portals and think him worth more than the dirt he stepped on. For most, handicaps of his sort were a liability in a pack—something that would slow them all down. No matter that Danger had spent most of his years perfecting his ability to live in darkness. What the hell did they care? A blind dude? If they didn’t drive him out with teeth, they’d drive him out with laughter. Maybe it was best if he just ceased his affiliation with Summer. That way, nobody would turn their whole family away on account of one degenerate loser—

Just as the worm was about to change his course and sprint as far away from the trail of Summer and his daughter as possible, his sensitive ears caught Nzingha’s bright call shaking the air. Well, shit. She’d found a pack. To stay in. If Danger didn’t show up now, he’d probably look like a major asshat—and the thought of Summer being disappointed in him was enough to spur the inky gladiator onward, anxiety be damned.

He entered the scene just as Summer’s calm voice was trickling away. So, they’d picked Munashii Gekko after all. Breathing deeply, his nares caught the cologne of a male and the perfume of a female . . . great. Thundercloud hackles spiked along the warboy’s spine. He could throw himself off a cliff without batting an eye, yet talking to members of the fairer sex flooded the knight with terror. Danger trotted up to his fellow Bright Moon refugees, panting with exertion, looking for all the world like a hound called up from the deepest, coldest pits of hell itself. Onyx robes a tattered mess. Soulless lanterns glinting with their demonic, catlike irises. Face expressionless as ever. He sat down heavily to one side of his ex-Czar, next to Nzingha, and nodded his head in the general direction of the Munshii wolves. “Danger,” he supplied in a deep, even monotone. “I’m with them.”