The doors of the Black Pack’s great hall slammed open with a deafening bang, rattling dust from the stone arches above. Acwulf stalked in, his heavy boots striking the marble floor in sharp, angry steps. Every conversation inside died instantly. Warriors, omegas, and even the elder council members turned to stare.

Alpha Thorne sat lazily atop his throne at the far end of the room, one leg draped casually over the other, a goblet of wine dangling from his fingers. His dark eyes ...