“Alpha Mendoza?” I repeated, my voice barely steady.
The name alone carried weight. It was a name whispered in fear across packs and territories. Alpha Mendoza of the Shadow Moon Pack. Ruthless. Calculated. Cold. An Alpha said to be born without mercy in his heart. Wolves said he did not feel guilt, or regret. He ruled with fear, not loyalty. Some even believed he could stand toe to toe with the Lycan King himself and survive.
“How did you get entangled with someone like him?” I asked slowly, dread curling in my stomach.
Mich’s expression darkened.
“We fought for power,” he said. “For the title of Alpha King.”
My breath caught.
“That position was never meant for one Alpha alone,” he continued. “It was meant for the strongest, the wisest, and the one chosen by the council.”
“
