The easy rhythm we had found over the last few days came to an abrupt halt later that week. The quiet mornings and satisfying afternoons of holding court were shattered by an urgent bird from the eastern borders. Word had reached the stronghold that a neighboring pack’s Alpha had suddenly passed away without leaving an heir, throwing their entire territory into absolute chaos. With no clear line of succession, factions were already forming, and the threat of a violent power struggle was rising by the hour. As the Lycan King, it was Demetrius's responsibility to step in, stabilize the region, and oversee the transition of power before things turned bloody.
I stood by the heavy oak wardrobe in our bedroom, watching in silence as Demetrius packed a tactical duffel bag. The atmosphere in the
