The golden sun shimmered over the Southern hills of Alpha Seth’s territory, its rays merging into the darker grounds of his estate and creating an effect. Inside, the walls of the pack’s main house echoed with quiet, a stillness that belied the growing tension simmering beneath.
Alpha Seth stood at the edge of the terrace, the wind tugging at his dark shirt, his eyes narrowed as if in focus but seeing nothing in particular. His pack was strong, one of the strongest in the district. His lands were thriving, and his people respected him, feared him even. But peace, he knew, could be a fragile illusion. And illusions never lasted. There was one truth he could not outrun.
He had no heir.
The seer’s voice haunted him still.
“Before your thirty-fifth moon, your blood must pass to the next. O
