"Power does not whisper, it roars, and when it does, every wolf must choose: to kneel, or to break."
Alaric's POV
Vayne rose before I even gave the command. My wolf had been pacing all night, restless, restless as the whispers of unrest thickened like smoke in the kingdom halls. Now, at the threshold of the Eastern Chambers, with Seraphine and her pack of jackals closing in behind me, he was done with patience.
"Yield." His voice rose over, and it came out as a growl from my mouth.
The air shifted, and it was not a stir of wind and not the subtle hush of torchlight. This was different. This was the gut-punching pull of an Alpha at his absolute limit and the kind of force that bent marrow to obedience and bloodlines to silence. My chest tightened as the growl broke free, deep and resonant, shaking through stone like thunder rolling from the belly of the earth.
