Maddox
24 hours earlier
I f*****g hate flying. I always have, never mind a flight that is half-way around the world. Atlas has nothing but f*****g moan about how cold it is going to be. I mean we are wolves. We ran at a seriously hot temperature. As the jet landed on the private runway I noticed a few SUV’s waiting, thinking nothing of it as it could be from my cousin whose runway this is. As we exited the jet a tall man with red eyes and his hair in a topknot approached us.
“Alpha Maddox Rivera?” he said in a Russian accent, as if I should know who he is. I looked around and noticed at least twelve to fifteen other men, all large, all with firearms on them. Noticing the frown and confusion on my face, he speaks again.
“Sorry, forgive my manners. I am Vladimir Sokolova, Lyras br
