Lucien sat in his Alpha’s tent at the Central Borders, the candlelight flickering across a vast map spread before him. Pins marked territories… red for brief battles, black for troop depositions, a single white pin where the young Alpha’s movements had clustered. Lucien’s hand hovered over it, thumb tracing a border line along the western ridge, where recent scouts had reported movement.
He was thinking three moves ahead when the flap slammed open and the general of the Central Borders came in, head low, breath ragged from the run. The general’s mouth worked; a single sentence pushed out. “Western Central… under attack, Alpha. They… they breached the outer watch.”
Lucien’s head lifted, his eyes flashing with cold fury. For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Then the muscles along his jaw ha
