Ronan Vale knew power before he ever understood what it meant to wield it.
At sixteen, he buried his father with his own two hands.
Not because tradition demanded it. Not because the elders decreed it. But because no one else in his pack was strong enough to do it without breaking. And Ronan could not afford to break.
His father, Alpha Cassian Vale, had been a legend—a warrior feared by his enemies, a leader revered by his people. Until Elijah, the Rogue King, tore through their lands like a storm, leaving only bodies in his wake.
Cassian had stood against him and fought to the very end, but in the end, even the mighty fell protecting his pack. And when he did, Ronan had been forced to step forward, to pick up the shattered remains of a pack that had lost its foundation.
He had been
