AUTHOR’S POV
Curtis Black, the rogue king sat on his the throne with sick glee on his face. His fingers drummed idly on the armrest of the overly opulent throne.
His soldiers, the dark ones who were wolves that had gone feral or mad after losing their mates stood before him.
One of Curtis’ ability as a red flame elemental was to be able to turn wolves who had lost their mind into obedient slaves which he called the dark ones.
They were forever loyal to him and would die for him. He used them to become the rogue king.
His golden eyes gleamed with amusement as he listened to one of his dark soldiers recount the event he had experienced with Soren in a recent pack m******e.
“So,” Curtis mused, leaning forward with a smirk “It seems my dear cousin has made a name for himself”
“Ye
