The night was an unfathomable abyss, a cloak of shadows that devoured everything in its path. The forest, dense and ancient, seemed to hold its breath, as if it knew that something dark was brewing among its roots. The convoy advanced slowly along the narrow dirt road, the vehicles' headlights barely piercing the surrounding darkness. The men on board were tense, their eyes scrutinizing every corner of the landscape, aware that danger lurked in every shadow.
Damian rode in the lead vehicle, sitting in the passenger seat. His blue eyes, cold and calculating like an endless winter, never stopped scanning the road ahead of them. His right hand rested on the grip of a pistol, but his true lethal weapon was the fury burning inside him. He knew Lucian was behind the attacks on the previous convoys, and this time he wasn't going to let him get away with it.
"Stay alert," he ordered in a low voice filled with authority. "Don't lower your guard for even a second."
