Alpha King Alistair
Swords clashed and warriors shouted in the morning air. I leaned against the fence at the edge of the training grounds. My arms crossed over my chest as I watched my men practice with hawk-like focus.
"Harder!" I yelled, my voice cutting like a whip. "You call that a strike? A child could parry that blow!"
The two sparring warriors stiffened at my words, their movements growing sharper, more aggressive. The younger one, a recruit from the southern packs, faltered under the pressure, his footing slipping on the gravel.
"You'll be dead before your first battle at this rate," I snapped, stepping forward. "Again!"
He nodded, swallowing hard, and adjusted his stance. Beside me, Gabriel cleared his throat.
"Your Majesty," he said cautiously, "Perhaps you're being a bit
