The grand council chamber was filled with the scent of burning torches and aged wood, the tension so thick it was nearly suffocating. The regional alpha council had called an emergency summit, summoning the Blackthorne and Stormborn representatives to discuss the escalating rogue threat. Layla’s father arrived in force, flanked by his most trusted enforcers, their imposing presence a silent statement of dominance. The Blackthorne warriors positioned themselves with calculated precision, their presence more than just a show of strength, it was a warning.
Across the room, Ronan stood with only his core allies, his warriors, his betas, the wolves he trusted above all others. Where Gideon exuded controlled arrogance, Ronan embodied unshaken confidence. A stark contrast, yet both held the room
