The sun had barely risen when Draka stepped into the clearing, tall and imposing. The forest was still cloaked in early mist, the light filtered and hazy through the trees. The lycan’s right behind him, the ones hiding in the forest emerged from the shadows—silent, powerful, loyal.
They stood in a loose circle, some still wary, others visibly reverent. His presence alone commanded obedience. When he spoke, his voice sliced through the morning hush like a blade.
“Enough waiting,” Draka said, his voice deep and thunderous. “The time for hiding is over.”
Heads lowered, backs straightened. They bowed—not out of fear, but instinct. To an alpha whose power had been caged for far too long.
“I will teach you to fight,” he said, pacing the circle with slow, deliberate steps. “Not just to defend
