( Raiden POV)
The Alpha's cabin is perched on the edge of a cliff, overlooking territories that stretch beyond what the eye can perceive.
Built by my great-grandfather from trees felled during the Great Winter, its massive timber walls have withstood pack wars, territorial disputes, and the passing of generations.
Now it serves as my self-imposed prison.
Days since I last appeared at pack meetings. Existing in a twilight state, neither fully me nor wolf.
Darkness presses against the windows, night having fallen hours ago, while I remained unmoved before the dying fire. The embers glow weakly, casting strange shadows across the stone hearth where countless Alphas before me contemplated their choices.
A half-empty bottle of wolfsbane whisky—the only liquor potent e
