KELLY THOMPSON'S POV
The whispers of the forest hushed as news slithered through the underbrush: Alpha Biansky had unleashed his Gamma. Thorne, a name that conjured images of bloodstained fangs and fallen warriors, marched toward us with his troops, their steps an ominous drumbeat against the earth. Our pack braced for the storm to come-fur raised, eyes like coals smoldering in the twilight.
"Kelly," Jason murmured, his voice a low growl only I could hear. "I will challenge him. We can avoid unnecessary carnage." His words were meant to comfort, but my heart gnashed against the confines of my chest, refusing the shelter of his protection.
"No, my king," I replied, stepping forward while our pack members parted like the Red Sea before Moses. "Let me be the one."
His hesitation
