The screech of tires, the metallic tang of fear, and the gut-wrenching impact. Khalid swore as a bullet ripped through his rear tire, sending his truck into a violent spin. Another shot, closer this time, shattered the back windshield, narrowly missing his head. His mother. It always came back to her. He should have left the bitch to die at the hands of the Bloodmoon Alpha.

Now, he was a hunted man, a pariah to his own kind, all because he tried to protect his sister, Isis. His father, the head of the hunter guild, had put a bounty on his head. And the Bloodmoon wolves, relentless in their pursuit, wanted him for the chaos his mother had unleashed.

He swerved again, fighting to control the battered truck. Vegas. That was the plan. Get lost in the crowd, ditch the truck, find a new ride. He spotted the Red Rock Canyon sign, a sharp turn, a controlled roll of the truck. He was out, supplies in hand, just as the gas tank sparked, igniting the wreckage. Let them check the inferno. He had a head start.