The Price of Victory
The rogue Alpha was fast—faster than any wolf Rowan had ever faced. His movements were erratic but deliberate, like a flame dancing just out of reach. And yet, Rowan didn’t falter.
Every strike he endured, every ounce of pain he swallowed, he bore for his pack. For Caleb.
The ridge had become their battleground, the broken earth beneath their paws etched with claw marks, blood, and shattered moonlight. Caleb had fallen back slightly, not out of weakness, but out of trust—this was Rowan’s fight now. Caleb’s eyes stayed locked on him, ready to intervene if Rowan fell, though his body shook with exhaustion.
Rowan bared his teeth, circling the rogue Alpha, who had shifted back into his human form. The man was taller than Rowan remembered. Sharper. Silver scars ran acro
