Deep within the ancient, untamed heart of the northern forest, miles away from the glass towers of Uptown, a figure moved through the undergrowth with the silent grace of a ghost. Michael Blair, the Alpha King whose name still commanded fear in the city, was a man reduced to a shadow. He crouched on a high limestone ridge, his eyes fixed on the valley below where the fires of the Afgan pack burned bright and defiant.
Michael did not need to be close to hear the conversation. His Alpha senses, honed over centuries of leadership, allowed him to catch every word carried on the wind. He watched as a scout, a spy he recognized from the inner circle, returned to the camp and bowed before a tall, broad-shouldered man.
That man was Thoros, Michael's elder brother. Thoros stood before the gathered wolves, his posture rigid with an old, festering resentment. By right of birth, Thoros should have been the Alpha, the leader of the Blair legacy. But the Lunar Goddess was indifferent to birth order; she had chosen Michael, the younger son, to carry the mantle of the Alpha King. It was a slight Thoros had never forgiven.
"The King is gone," Thoros shouted to the pack, his voice echoing through the trees. "Michael has fled like a coward, leaving his half-breed daughter to play at being a CEO. The Goddess has turned her back on him. His reign is over. Nicole cannot ascend without a mate, and without an Alpha, this pack is weak. It is time for the true blood to take the throne."
From his hiding place, Michael felt his wolf moan within him. It was a sound of profound grief and exhaustion. He was too weak to face Thoros in open combat, his energy drained by years of holding back the darkness. But more than the loss of his crown, his soul ached for his wife. Alex, his beautiful vampire Queen, was a woman the pack had never accepted. Even after two hundred years of marriage, the wolves looked at her with suspicion and hatred. They saw her as a parasite, not a partner.
If only Nicole had married Nato, Michael thought bitterly. He had tried to push her toward the union with the strong wolf warrior, believing it would secure the line and give her the power she needed to transform into her true form. But Nicole had refused, and Nato had been rejected. Now, Michael was a fugitive in his own land, hiding from a brother who wanted him dead, forced to stay away from the mate who kept his heart beating.
The pain of the separation was becoming unbearable. A wolf without its mate was a dying thing, and Michael could feel the edges of his sanity fraying. He looked down at his hands, watching as they began to shift, the skin erupting into thick, russet fur. He didn't fight the change. He welcomed it.
In a matter of seconds, the man was gone. In his place stood a massive red wolf, his fur the color of dried blood and autumn leaves. He threw his head back, letting out a silent howl into the night sky, a cry of longing for Alex that only the moon could hear. Then, with a powerful leap, he turned and ran deep into the forest, disappearing into the darkness where not even a brother's hate could find him.