{"Alpha males don't compete; they dominate."}
The stink of rot was thick in the air, curling into my lungs like poison. We crouched behind the shale and iron-veined stone ridge, eyes fixed on the infected mass swarming below. I could hear their breath erratic, wet, hungry. Those things were not just guarding the entrance to Blood Stone Mountain, they were feeding off the mountain's madness, part of it now.
"There are too many," Freyr muttered, knuckles white around his blade.
"They are not just a wall. They are a message," Sierra said, her voice tight. "Something down there wants us to see what we're up against and walk away."
"Or run," Dante added grimly, crouched beside her. "And honestly, I'm not ruling it out."
I was silent, and the hum in my chest had started the moment we laid eyes on the swarm. It was pressure. It was a calling. My beast stirred beneath my skin not from fear but from purpose. "We don't have time to wait this out," I said.
