The clash of claws and teeth echoed under the blood red moon.
Draka fought like the beast he was born to be, his lycan form towering, muscles rippling with every strike as he clashed with Lucas, the false king, the betrayer. Fur matted with blood, the two alphas circled each other, growling, snarling, kings of war locked in a brutal dance.
Lucas lunged again, fangs bared. Draka blocked with a roar, swiping with such force it sent Lucas flying into a stone pillar, the earth trembling beneath him.
"You’re weak!" Draka bellowed. "You hid behind betrayal. I rose from death itself!"
Lucas coughed blood, but his smirk remained. “And yet you bleed like a mortal.”
He charged.
Their bodies collided with a sickening crunch, claws digging into flesh, fangs piercing shoulder and thigh. Blood soa
