Julian’s Point Of View
I stood at the far end of my office, the dim light of the overcast sky filtering in through the arched windows, casting long, mournful shadows across the hardwood floors. The invitation in my hands was heavy, both in weight and in meaning.
Thick, gilded parchment, marked with the black crest of the Alpha King himself. He had the audacity to invite me. My jaw clenched as I read the words again, every syllable drenched in arrogance.
“You are cordially summoned to the Grand Summit of Aethroria. Attendance is not optional.”
Of course it wasn’t.
Not when the sender was the same monster who razed half of Krypta to the ground. The same bastard who stood in the blood-soaked ruins of my pack and called it a necessary sacrifice, all for what? For a little offense I committed. He had turned Krypta, once the fiercest, most respected clan of warriors, into a ghost town of silence and ashes.
Half my people were dead, the other half were scattered, broken. And I was supposed t
