Beta Xander POV

The march began before dawn, when the mountains still held their breath and the mist clung low like a secret. I rode at the front of the column, horse’s flank slick beneath my palm, cloak pressed close to keep the chill from biting through bone. Three hundred wolves followed—warrior veterans, Alpha Gregor’s loyalists, and fighters from smaller packs who owed favors or blood. We were not an army in any formal sense; we were a hunting pack with torches and purpose and a ...