POV: Jasper
The tension in the clearing is suffocating. Two armies face each other across blood-soaked snow. Jasper's trained warriors against Ronan's savage rogues and Direwolves.
The numbers favor Jasper. Fifty disciplined fighters against maybe thirty rogues and a handful of Direwolves.
But Ronan stands at the center of his forces like an immovable mountain. Scarred. Massive. Radiating primal power that makes even Jasper's strongest warriors hesitate.
"Last chance," Jasper calls out. His voice carries across the clearing, cold and commanding. "Give me my son. Let me take what's mine. Walk away and no one else has to die."
Ronan's laugh is harsh and mocking. "You think you can just march in here and take whatever you want? You rejected her. Cast her out. You have no rights."
"I hav
