Killian’s POV
Being the Alpha King comes with its own burdens. My authority extends beyond trivial disputes like thefts and border skirmishes—I oversee the monetary budgets of all 236 werewolf packs scattered across the world. I dictate alliances, settle wars before they even begin, and pass judgment with a single command.
I don’t have time for distractions.
My days are regimented, each minute accounted for. There’s no room for delays. No space for indulgences.
Yet here I am. Sitting back, watching a woman kneel before me.
She’s… interesting.
Not in the usual way women are—cloying, desperate to claw their way into my bed for status or power. No, she’s different.
I like when people cower before me, when fear drips from their trembling forms, feeding the beast within. But her?
Don’t mistake her bowed head for submission.
Her eyes, though lowered, hold fire. If not for her friend, Lilly, she would be glaring at me outright.
My gaze drops to her hands, balled into fists
