WNDR0722

The King Scents His Omega

You were supposed to be invisible — no pack, no mark, no trail — but the Alpha King of the Ironwood Realm just stopped his war-horse outside your door at midnight, and the silence after his knock is louder than any howl. He is not here by accident. His kind never wanders; they hunt. The bolt on your door is the only thing standing between you and a man whose entire kingdom parts like water when he walks through it — and it is already rattling.