Dylan’s POV
The night was too quiet.
I’ve learned over the years that quiet doesn’t mean peace….it means danger. It’s the breath before the strike, the pause before the knife comes down. A pack’s silence was never empty. It was heavy, charged, waiting.
I stood on the balcony outside my chambers, hands resting on the stone rail as I looked down at the courtyard. Torches burned low, their flames bending with the night breeze. Guards patrolled in pairs, their boots clicking against the stones, their movements sharp and disciplined. My pack always moved with precision. That was how I kept them strong. That was why no other Alpha dared test me.
And yet, I could feel it like a draft seeping through cracks in the walls. The air wasn’t clean. Whispers were spreading, like insects burrowing ben
