“Oh my… acres of land?”
The pack members howled that night, but it wasn’t for the dead Alpha rotting in the cold ground beneath their feet. It wasn’t for the blood he spilled for them, for the nights he spent sharpening claws to protect them. No, these bastards were howling because the land he fought for was now up for grabs.
The air was thick with the scent of sweat, smoke, and cheap beer. The moon hung heavy above, watching as men shifted into wolves, back into men, stumbling around fires as they celebrated a death that should have shattered them.
Alpha Logan’s jaw tightened so hard it clicked, his eyes burning as he stared into the laughing crowd, the orange flames painting them like demons. His father’s blood wasn’t even dry, yet they roared over the promise of land they would sell
