LUTHER
There was a time—not long ago—when I never would have entertained the thought of failure. I am Luther Crescent, the second son of the Crescent Pack’s alpha. The unwanted heir, the backup, the one no one bet on—until I forced them to.
I ruled the f*****g pack long before I was ever given the title. I took it, shaped it, made it into something worthy of fear. Worthy of respect.
And I had everything.
Power. Control. Loyalty.
Until I lost it.
Until my own f*****g blood turned on me.
And now, I sit here—beaten, bound, breathing through broken ribs in a cell that once belonged to the wolves I exiled.
If I were anyone else, I’d call it poetic.
But I don’t believe in poetry.
I believe in revenge.
I exhale, slow and deep, feeling the burn of every breath. My fingers twitch agains
