I had left the pack house that morning determined to ignore the ghost of the fated pull dragging at my every step. Something raw and primal kept clawing at my chest, demanding I turn around and go down to the dark cells, but I ruthlessly suffocated it. I was the almighty Lycan King. I had a summit with neighboring alpha factions, and I refused to let an insignificant, broken Omega rogue disrupt my kingdom's future.
Yet, the moment our convoy crossed the pack borders, a dark, suffocating foreboding settled deep into my gut.
“Something is wrong, Fredrick,” Vane warned, his mind-link heavy with an uncharacteristic, restless panic.
“Drop it,”I commanded my wolf, pushing the unease aside. “Kendra is in full control. Nothing can go wrong.”
But half-way to the summit, the discomfort in my ch
