Lance's POV
I paced up and down the room, waiting for the return of the soldiers.
A guard rushed towards me, clutching a phone as a call came through for me.
I stared at him for a moment before taking it from his hand. The lines carved into his face, the rough calluses on his palm, the lean, hardened frame of his body — they all told the same story of survival.
When I first began planning to restore the honor of my fallen pack, I had never imagined doing so with wolves of my own blood. I had thought them gone — all of them, consumed in the fire that had claimed my parents. I believed I was the only one left… me and my aunt who had been far away with another pack at the time. Before she heard of the attack and sneaked in to save me.
