The convoy of black SUVs thundered through Ironblood territory, their headlights cutting through the night like burning eyes. The vehicles bore the crest of Victor’s pack—an iron wolf skull etched in crimson—and when they roared into the hospital compound, even the Ironblood warriors standing guard straightened nervously.
The hospital was one of the largest buildings in Alpha Victor’s lands. Built of gray stone and steel, it reeked of wealth and power. Funded not by compassion but by coin earned off the backs of orphans sold, traded, and “reassigned” to neighboring packs, it stood as a gleaming monument to Alpha Victor’s cruelty. He would starve children to skin and bone, but his warriors? His heir? They had walls of clean white tile, endless supplies of herbs and medicines, and healers t
