POV: Marcus Hale
I threw myself at the attacker, catching him just before he reached the pack's new border fence. We crashed to the ground in a mess of limbs. His mask slipped, showing a face I didn't recognize.
"Who sent you?" I growled, holding him down with my knee on his chest.
The man just smiled, his teeth stained with a familiar black material. "She's coming back. And this time, she knows all your flaws."
Before I could ask him further, he bit down on something hidden in his mouth. Black foam bubbled from his lips. His body convulsed once, then went still.
"Damn it!" I slammed my hand into the ground beside his head.
This was the third visitor this week. Each one the same—strange markings on their skin, black material in their mouths, and cryptic messages about The Mother's return before they killed themselves.
