The auction hall smelled of incense and fear as the king (Zander) watched from a shadowed seat, his crown absent but his presence unmistakable. The handlers dragged their “final prize” into the light—a wolf man bound in rune-etched iron, bare-armed and unbowed, slate-grey hair dusted from travel, golden eyes sharp and defiant. Whispers rippled through the crowd as the seller spoke quickly, calling him a weapon, a protector, loyal once claimed.

The seller faltered. The wolf man showed his teeth in a smile that promised blood—or loyalty.