The city-forest border never stayed still. Paths bent when no one watched, stone swallowed roots, and the air carried the low, irritated hum of territory that did not like intruders. The ruins pressed in on themselves like they were listening.
> Draven — a towering alpha wolf, battle-built and scar-lined, carrying authority like a loaded weapon he never sets down.
Draven had learned long ago how to stand still without being passive. His body looked at rest, but every muscle waited for permission to tear something apart. This edge of territory was supposed to be quiet. Controlled. Predictable.
It was none of those things.
The scent hit him first. Not fear. Not submission. Something sharp, clean, threaded with arrogance. It slid under his skin like a deliberate insult.
Wrong, his instincts said again. Not prey. Not ally.
A problem.
Movement flickered between fractured stone and overgrown steel.
> Sael — an omega fox, lean and sharp-eyed, moving like he's already planned his escape.
The fox stepped into view without hesitation, like he'd already measured the distance between them and decided it was survivable. No bow of the head. No lowered eyes. His posture was loose in the way only people with too many exits ever allowed themselves to be.
Draven's hackles rose.
"Turn around," Draven said.
The command wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. The air bent around his voice, alpha pressure rolling outward in a controlled wave. Lesser wolves would have felt it in their bones. Omegas usually felt it in their spine.
Sael blinked once.
Then he smiled.
It wasn't the kind of smile meant to charm. It was precise. Measured. A smile designed to irritate someone who was used to obedience.
"I would," Sael said lightly, gaze flicking over Draven's scars as if cataloging them, "but you're blocking the shortest path."
Draven took a step forward. Stone shifted under his weight, the ground remembering violence.
"This territory is under wolf jurisdiction."
Sael tilted his head, ears angling slightly. A fox's curiosity, sharpened into mockery.
"It didn't seem to mind me."
Draven moved.
He closed the distance in a blur, hand snapping out to seize Sael by the collar. His fingers closed on air.
Sael wasn't where he'd been a heartbeat ago.
Instead, breath brushed the back of Draven's neck.
"Predictable," Sael murmured.
Draven spun, claws half-extended now, control slipping just enough to be dangerous. Alpha pressure surged again, heavier this time, a wordless demand to kneel.
Sael staggered half a step. Only half.
Then his eyes sharpened, something cold and old flashing behind them.
"Don't," Sael said quietly. Gone was the humor. Gone was the playfulness. "Do that again and I stop being polite."
Draven laughed once. Short. Sharp.
"You're an omega."
Sael's smile came back, wrong and thin.
"And you're not as intimidating as you think."
For a moment, they just stared at each other. The space between them tightened, stretched thin like a wire about to snap. The city-forest responded, unsettled. Somewhere nearby, a wall groaned and shifted. A path rerouted itself without warning.
Neither of them looked away.
"You don't belong here," Draven said. "Give me one reason not to break you where you stand."
Sael's tail flicked once, irritated.
"You could try," he said. "But then you'd have to explain why your territory rearranged itself the second you touched me."
That gave Draven pause. Only a fraction of a second. Enough.
Sael moved again. This time not to escape, but to test. He darted in close, fingers brushing Draven's wrist before slipping away. The contact was brief. Accidental-looking.
The world lurched.
Draven felt it like a pressure shift deep in his chest. The air warped, the ground beneath them stuttering like reality had missed a step.
They both froze.
Sael's expression flickered, irritation bleeding into something sharper. Fear, maybe. Or recognition.
"Interesting," Sael muttered, more to himself than to Draven.
Draven grabbed him.
This time his hand closed around Sael's arm, iron grip locking in place. Sael hissed, claws flashing out in reflex, scraping against Draven's forearm. Blood welled up, dark and immediate.
They stared at it.
First blood.
Draven didn't let go.
"You're coming with me," he said. Not a threat. A decision.
Sael yanked once, hard. Failed. Then he laughed, breathless and furious.
"I'd rather die," he said.
Draven met his gaze, unblinking.
"I know."
Something deep in the city shifted again, displeased.
And far too interested.