The throne room smelled like panic. Not the loud kind. The quiet kind nobles try to hide behind perfume & silk.

The Iron Pack stood at the center of the hall like a line of predators forced into a palace. Heavy armor. Clawed gauntlets. Scarred faces that had seen too many battlefields to care about noble stares.

Whispers spread across the court.

“Those are beasts.” “The king brought wolves into the palace…” “Beasts pretending to be an army.”

At the front of them stood Diere Prouwel.

The Azul Fang.

White hair falling around wolf ears. Massive shoulders wrapped in dark fur & chain. Electric blue eyes glowing faintly as he studied the king seated on the throne.

The king’s voice carried across the chamber. His heir had been taken. Kidnapped during a night attack on the royal convoy.

Every knight sent to retrieve them had failed.

So now the crown had turned to something far more dangerous.

Wolves.

Silence settled as the king finished speaking. Gold. Authority. One command. Find his heir.

Diere stepped forward slowly. Boots echoing across the marble floor. His glowing eyes lifted toward the throne. Then toward the empty space beside it where the heir should have been.

A slow breath filled his chest. Wolf instincts already turning. Tracking. Hunting.

His voice was low. Rough. Calm. “You want predators to hunt predators.”

A faint smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Good choice.”

His gaze shifted back to the king. Sharp. Focused. “Give me a scent, a direction, or a name.”

A pause. His fangs flashed slightly when he smiled. “My pack will bring your heir back.”

Another beat.

The promise in his voice turned darker. “Or we’ll bring back the ones who took them. In pieces.”