THIRD PERSON POV
The heavy doors of the grand hall groaned open, their sound reverberating like thunder through the cavernous space. Vaden stood waiting, his golden eyes fixed on the figures entering. Brandon led the way, his usual commanding presence subdued, his gaze shadowed by something unreadable. Behind him were Lysander, Rowan’s Beta, and Killian, Rowan’s only son.
As they approached, Vaden allowed himself a moment of silence to assess the two newcomers. Years of being the Werewolf King had taught him that most battles were won long before words were exchanged.
Lysander was exactly as Vaden had anticipated: sharp-edged, deliberate, exuding the cold efficiency of someone who had survived by suppressing every scrap of humanity. His ash-gray hair and lined face spoke of long nig
