THE SPEECHThe wind at the edge of the forest was sharp. It carried the smell of the human camp—cooked meat, woodsmoke, and the scent of sharpening stones. It was a smell that belonged to a world that didn't want them to exist.

Demetrius stood behind a large grey rock, his hands shaking just a little. He hid them in the folds of his cloak. He didn't want the men to see. He didn't want them to know that their Alpha felt like a boy again, small and afraid of the dark.

"You’re thinking too ...