The scent of fresh pine hung in the air as dawn broke over the eastern horizon, casting pale light across the rugged land of the Blue Moon Pack. It had been a week since the final clash with the rogue pack—seven days since victory had been claimed, but the cost had been heavy. The ground still bore the scars of the battle, a silent testament to the warriors who had fought and died.
Alpha Alarick, once the embodiment of strength and power, lay in his chambers at the heart of the pack’s fortress. The grand stone walls, lined with shields and ancient tapestries, now felt like a prison to him. Every breath was a struggle, every movement an effort. The wounds from the battle had taken their toll. The once unyielding leader was now a shell of the powerful wolf he had been.
Beside him stood his
