If I'm honest, nothing about this moment felt real: not the hush that settled over the snowy clearing, not Jasper on his knees, not even the way the warriors' eyes darted between him and me, nobody daring to breathe. The Alpha had fallen, and the world seemed to freeze around us.
The forest pressed in on all sides, ancient pines heavy with snow that caught the weak winter sunlight and turned it into diamonds. The air was so cold it burned my lungs with each breath, crisp and sharp with the scent of pine sap and frozen earth. Somewhere in the distance, a raven called out, its harsh cry echoing through the silence like a judgment. The clearing itself was sacred ground, marked by standing stones half-buried in drifts, places where Alphas had met for centuries to settle disputes and forge alliances. Now it bore witness to something else entirely: the unmaking of an Alpha who'd believed himself untouchable.
