The great palace of RuthValis shimmered like molten gold in the daylight.

Every pillar was carved with wolves mid-howl, and the scent of incense wound through the air - rosemary, smoke, and something ancient.

At the heart of it all sat Alpha Ortiz Ortega, the Supreme Alpha of the Twelve Houses, his silver robes trailing across the marble as he leaned against the edge of the throne dais.

The man's eyes, molten gold under lamplight, flickered between patience and exhaustion.

Beside ...