­Alder’s POV:

Lucien was dead, and he was sure of it.

The air reeked of sweat, blood and the sweet smell of carnage. Alder barked orders at his men, his eyes narrowed as his sharp gaze pierced through the smoke and landed on his rival, his adversary, Marcus.

Alpha Alder stood at the rear end of the line, his teeth bared as his rage threatened to boil over. All of this was going badly for him, and he knew that. He had expected his plan to work, but it had backfired instead.

He was ...