The sharp sound of hooves striking frozen ground broke the waiting silence. Moments later, a sleek black carriage escorted by mounted warriors appeared through the forest path. Their disciplined formation and the dark banners bearing the insignia of Damian’s pack made the air grow heavy with awe.
When the carriage stopped, the horses snorted, stamping their hooves, their breath misting in the cold. A warrior dismounted swiftly and opened the carriage door.
Alpha Damian emerged.
He was every inch the figure the tales had painted—tall, broad-shouldered, with an aura so commanding it seemed to bend the very air around him. His dark cloak billowed slightly in the wind, and his sharp gaze swept over the waiting party. Beside him stepped Beta Matt, equally composed, though his eyes carried a
