DARIAN

The room smells of pine and burning incense, a strange combination that never seems to bother the Alphas but makes my stomach twist. I sit at the long wooden table, flanked by the Moon Ridge pack leaders. The meeting is supposed to be about trade agreements, patrol routes, and settling disputes, but so far it’s all formalities.

“You’ve gone above and beyond, Darian,” the Alpha of Moon Ridge says, his deep voice smooth, commanding. “Your presence here has stabilized our region more than you can imagine. The other packs… they respect you.”

I nod, offering a polite smile, though my mind wanders. It’s not about respect. Not really. I’m...