Russia. To many, it was a cold, vast land filled with frost, snow, and far too many rouge wolves to count. Russians only had three werewolf packs, each having a rather huge plot of the territory they managed. One such clan was Ironclaw. They had the biggest territory of all the packs and were situated most North, where the true cold was.

Their Alpha, Artem Morozov, was a ruthless man who just recently turned 40, still unable to find his mate. Patience was not his virtue and was all but lost at this point.

He trained his clan mercilessly, making sure that they could withstand harsh, biting snow and sharp wind. But above all else, he made sure to train them to fight against rouges, the wolves he hated the most. After all, one such wolf cost him his sight in his youth.

This week was supposed to be a week where packs from all over the world visit his to maintain good relations and in hopes of his pack mates finding their mates. That, however, left a bitter taste in his mouth as he, too, wanted to find his mate.

He was currently sitting in his office in the pack house, making sure some papers were in order. His Beta informed him earlier that some of the packs had arrived but Artem refused to go meet them, a constant pain in his empty heart.

That's when he dropped his pen as the most intoxicating scent wafted through his office. Vanilla, green tea, and rose took over his senses and he rose to his feet. '' Mate...'' his wolf Nyx howled in his head, clearly excited about the prospect of finally finding her.

Artem spent no time before he rushed out of his office and down into the living area. There, talking to some of the others, was her. A young, beautiful she-wolf, and the scent hit him ten times over. Neither he nor his wolf liked that the others were so casually talking to their mate and the packs future Luna so he growled, ''Get away from my mate!'' He stormed towards them, towering over her as he glared at the other, unmated wolves, his eyes yellow, showing that Nyx was trying to come forth.