The thud of my kill echoed in the woods, a heavy, satisfying sound. A massive buffalo, felled by my own hands, lay sprawled in the dirt. Its lifeless body was a testament to my strength. I dabbed at my perspiration and looked downward at it while showing a hint of pride. However, the feeling of fulfillment was fleeting. One of my guards approached, his face serious, breaking through the peace I had found in the hunt.

"Alpha," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "He's here."

My mood darkened instantly. The name was like poison, twisting through my veins. Draven. Alpha Draven of the Ashfang Pack, the man responsible for everything I had become. The man who destroyed my family, who tore apart my world when I was nothing more than a child.

I exhaled sharply, casting one last glance at my kill before nodding to the guard. "Get him ready for the meeting," I said, my voice hard, devoid of the satisfaction I had felt moments ago.

I followed my guard back to the pack's main hall, where Draven sat waiting. The moment I laid eyes on him, old memories surged back, hot and vicious. Over the years, not much had changed about his smug expression. My anger was so intense that my hand automatically balled into a fist by my side at the sight of him.

But I pushed it down. I had a plan.

“Alpha Xaden.” His voice grated on my nerves, making my skin prickle with distaste. He acted as though nothing had happened, as if he wasn’t the reason my father lay in a shallow grave.

“You’re desperate,” I said, keeping my tone low and controlled. I leaned against the table, towering over him. “What makes you think I would help you?”

Draven’s lips thinned. His eyes betrayed desperation, even though he was a man not accustomed to the act of pleading. His pack was struggling, and he was low on soldiers and resources. His arrogance was starting to crumble, and I savored the moment, relishing how the tables had turned.

“Name your price,” Draven said through gritted teeth.

I smiled then, a slow, calculated smile. “One of your daughters.”

Draven stiffened, his eyes widening just a fraction. I could tell he hadn’t expected this. But I had thought about it carefully. If I were going to make him suffer, I wanted it to start with his most vulnerable link; any of his daughters would do.

He was silent for a moment, likely weighing his options, but I knew he had none.

Finally, he gave a tight nod. “Fine.”

***

The moment they brought her out, I sized her up. Nyx Lunaris. The youngest and the weakest of Alpha Draven’s brood. The frail thing before me looked more like a ghost than a royal daughter. Her green eyes were big and fearful, and her beautiful blonde hair complemented her pale face. Her tight grip on her arms, as if she were drawing near to herself, conveyed all the information I required. She was already broken. This would be easy.

I couldn’t help but smile, a twisted satisfaction building in my chest. Lucas had handed me his weakest child, his most vulnerable. Exactly what I needed.

She kept her gaze trained on the ground, refusing to meet my eyes, which only annoyed me. I wanted her to see me. To understand the hell I was going to bring into her life.

"Is this what you're offering me?" I asked Draven, my voice low and laced with contempt. I moved in closer, around her as though I were a prey animal, studying her from every side.

The atmosphere felt heavy and oppressive, as though everyone was patiently prepared for me to make an otherwise decision. Even she must have felt it. But I didn’t. I grabbed her arm, turning her roughly to face me, forcing her to look up.

Her eyes locked with mine for the first time, and for a brief moment, something flickered between us. Some uncertainty I couldn’t quite place. I ignored it, shoving the feeling aside as quickly as it had come. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. This wasn’t about her. This was about revenge. And she was merely a tool, a means to an end.

"I’ll take her," I said coldly.

The relief on Draven’s face was palpable. He would do anything to save his precious pack, even if it meant selling his daughter. Coward.

As I led Nyx away, she stumbled slightly, her body stiff with fear. I didn't offer her any comfort. This wasn’t the time for kindness, and I had no intention of offering any. Not to her.

The ride back to Crimson Howl was quiet. With her hands neatly folded in her lap and her shoulders bent, Nyx sat down next to me. Keeping a watch on her from the corner of my eye, I noticed how she bit her lip and fidgeted, seemingly in an attempt to contain her tears. It seemed as though she was easily broken.

And I would break her.

But my thoughts drifted as the forest rolled by. Every tree we passed brought back memories I tried so hard to bury. I saw my father die when I was just five years old. His blood still stained the ground, and I can still picture the audience applauding as he was thrashed and killed in front of them. I relived the anger, helplessness, and terror. And the man who had orchestrated it all? Draven.

My fists clenched at the memory. I looked over at Nyx again, at the delicate curve of her neck, her hands trembling slightly in her lap. She was the first step in my plan, and I would make sure her father suffered through her.

She had no idea what was coming.

I turned my gaze back to the road ahead, my mind already plotting. Nyx would serve her purpose. And soon, Lucas would feel the same pain I had carried for years. Soon, I would have my revenge.

The beginning of her torment would start tonight.

***

The moment we crossed the border into Crimson Howl territory, I felt the familiar weight of authority settle back into my bones. This was my land, my kingdom. And everyone here knew exactly who held the power. The moment we arrived, two figures rushed toward me, their laughter cutting through the tension that had been simmering since I left Ashfang.

Freya and Calista.

The two women approached with easy confidence, their hands immediately roaming over me. Calista was the first to slide her fingers along my arm, her touch possessive, her eyes gleaming as she gazed up at me. Freya wasn’t far behind, brushing her hand across my chest as if making her claim.

"Missed you, Alpha," Calista purred, her voice dripping with sultry charm. Her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, a stark contrast to the intensity of her gaze. Freya, red-haired and just as dangerous, echoed her sentiments with a sly smile.

"We thought you had forgotten about us," Freya teased, her fingers tracing the edge of my shirt. There was a playful danger in her voice, a challenge that came naturally to both of them.

They had been with me for years, Calista and Freya. Not quite mates, that was a bond far deeper than anything I had with these women. But they were... useful. Both were daughters of high-ranking warriors in my pack, and both had their ambitions. But they knew their place. They were my mistresses, nothing more. Convenient distractions. Tools I used when I needed release, but never anything beyond that.

Still, they were loyal to me. And I to them, in my way.

“I didn’t forget,” I said, my tone casual, but there was no mistaking the authority behind it. “Prepare my room for me.”

Their eyes gleamed, and without another word, they turned and disappeared into the packhouse, no doubt eager to make the place to my liking. But I had no interest in either of them tonight. Not with the plans forming in my mind.

I turned toward Nyx, who was still standing like a shadow, quiet and withdrawn. Her eyes remained cast downward as if staring at me would break whatever fragile defense she had left. Pathetic. She was nothing like Freya or Calista; nothing like any of the strong women in my pack.

She was small and frail, a broken thing sent to me as a sacrifice. But that’s all she was—a means to an end. I didn’t need another mistress, not really. But Nyx would serve her purpose before I unleashed the full force of my revenge on Draven.

"Take her to the cold room," I ordered my guards, gesturing toward Nyx without even looking at her. "She’ll stay there for now."

The guards stepped forward without hesitation, grabbing her by the arms. She didn’t resist, didn’t speak, and only moved where they directed her, her face pale with fear. I didn’t care. She would survive, or she wouldn’t. Either way, it wouldn’t matter to me.

As I turned to enter the packhouse, a familiar figure approached, his expression serious but controlled.

“Xaden,” my beta called out. Ronan. A fierce warrior and one of the few people I trusted. He had been by my side for years, always loyal, always reliable. When he joined me in my room, I knew it wasn’t just for pleasantries.

"How did it go?" Ronan closed the door behind him and walked inside, asking.

I took a seat, reclined in my chair, and felt the stress of the day gradually melt away from me. "Draven agreed to everything," I said. "His daughter is in the cold room now."

Ronan raised an eyebrow. "And the plan?"

I glanced at him, my lips curling into a cold smile. "She’s part of it. But not the most important part. For now, we focus on the soldiers. The rogues are getting too bold. I know Draven can’t afford another hit like last time."

Ronan nodded, his expression grim. The rogues had been a thorn in Draven's side for months now, attacking his supply lines and testing the limits of other packs’ defenses. But with the added soldiers from my pack, he could finally turn the tide.

"We’ll send them where they’re most needed," Ronan said. “We can spare some weapons as well.”

"Good." I looked out the window at the low-hanging moon in the sky. Little by little, the idea was coming together. But Draven was only the beginning. I would make him pay for what he did.

"What about the girl?" Ronan asked, his voice casual, but there was a hint of curiosity there.

I shrugged. "I’ll break her. Just like I planned. She’ll be no different from the others. Once I’m done with her, she’ll be just as obedient as Calista and Freya."

Ronan raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. He knew better than to question me. "She’s fragile," he remarked.

"That makes it easier," I replied coldly. "She’ll bend to my will."

After we finished discussing the details of the supplies and soldiers, Ronan left me alone in my room. I was standing by the window, gazing out into the pitch-dark night, thinking about Nyx already. Yes, she was delicate, but there was more to her than that. Something that eluded me completely.

But it made no difference. I would crush whatever it was.

I turned away from the window and called for Calista and Freya. The pair of women made their appearance in a short period, their eyes beaming with eagerness.

I said, "Bring her to me," making no room for doubt in my voice. With a swift nod, they both left the room, leaving their footsteps reverberating throughout the hallway as they rushed to get Nyx out of the cold chamber.

Tonight, the next phase of my plan will begin.