Darius’s POV
Becoming a rogue meant death for most. No pack. No protection. No territory. I should have been dead before I turned eighteen.
But… I wasn’t.
And when my father’s most trusted betas and gammas started following me instead of hunting me, I knew I had won. One by one, I made them understand that my name meant more than just being the son of the Ashen Alpha.
By the time I was twenty, I had my own people—wolves who had lost everything, wolves too crazy for normal packs, wolves who found comfort in the fact that I didn’t give a f**k about laws, councils, or some pathetic alpha order.
They followed me because I let them live exactly how they wanted. And in return, they did whatever the f**k I asked. When I was twenty-five, I decided it was time—time to spare my brother the agon
