Marcus's eyes narrowed as he sat in the dingy, cramped cave, surrounded by his loyal followers. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and mold, and the flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the walls. "We need to get Ava," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "Ryker's obsession with her is our ticket to taking over this pack."
One of Marcus's followers, a burly man with a scar above his left eyebrow, nodded in agreement. "I've been watching her," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "She's always surrounded by Ryker's guards. We'll need to come up with a solid plan to get her away from them."
Marcus's smile was cold and calculating, his eyes glinting with determination. "I've been thinking about that," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "We'll use the old abandoned mine on the outskirts of the pack's territory. It's the perfect place to lay a trap."
The group of men nodded, their faces set with determination. They began to discuss the details of their plan, their voices hushed but their excitement palpable. The tension in the cave was palpable, and Ava's fate hung precariously in the balance.
As they plotted, Marcus's eyes gleamed with anticipation. He was tired of being second-in-command, tired of being overshadowed by Ryker's strength and leadership. With Ava as his leverage, he would finally get the recognition he deserved.
But little did Marcus know, Ryker was watching from the shadows, his eyes fixed intently on the group. He had been monitoring their movements, and he knew exactly what they were planning. Ryker's jaw clenched with determination as he realized he would need to take drastic measures to protect Ava.