~Kael~
Today, my father—the King—had sent me on another lovely little errand: shut down a fighter’s club that had gotten far too bloody for his liking.
Officially, it was supposed to be a controlled environment for training and recreation. Unofficially, it had become a pit for savage entertainment, the kind of place where Lycan and high-ranking wolves came to drink, bet, and watch others get torn apart.
And now, because the King didn’t want to get his royal hands dirty or risk upsetting a few Alpha allies, I was the one sent to clean it up. Again.
In the VIP room on the east wing, the so-called manager was tied to a chair—sweaty, pale, and shaking. Darius stood beside him, hoodie up.
“Please!” the man shrieked, eyes wide. “I’m just a daytime manager. I don’t know anything about who’s
