SAM
I smiled in projected victory.
By morning, the town would be buzzing with fear.
Lucy would hear about it. She would have to respond.
As the Alpha of our Clan, she always ran toward danger. That was what Alphas did, she said. They were on the frontline with their warriors, and not hiding in a safety bunker or mulling over scenarios in the office while others sacrificed for duty.
I approached the storage vault, opening it with a thumbprint and blood seal. Inside, weapons gleamed: some forged by witches, others taken from long-forgotten enemies. The clans and packs that once surrounded us contributed to my cause—unknowingly, of course.
With a confident smile, I selected carefully.
A three-blade silver-clawed gauntlet treated with corrosive venom, and the silver has been infused wi
