Chapter 2

Jensen's Point of View

I sit in my office, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. Stacks of paperwork litter the surface, most of it outdated reports and formalities I’ve been putting off for weeks. But one name keeps appearing in the documents, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts "Crimsonclaw Pack".

With a frustrated sigh, I close the folder and lean back in my chair, dragging a hand over my face. The Crimsonclaw Pack has been a thorn in our side for months now, their actions growing bolder and more reckless with each passing week. This latest report only confirms what I’ve feared, they’re spiraling out of control.

I open a mind link to my Beta, Ronan, and my Gamma, Nyx. “I need both of you in my office. Now.”

Their responses come almost instantly, their tones sharp and alert. “On our way.”

It takes only a few minutes before there’s a knock at my door. “Enter,” I call, sitting up straighter as the two step inside.

Ronan, ever the stoic, moves with precision, his broad frame exuding calm authority. Nyx, on the other hand, is a sharp contrast, her piercing gaze scans the room as she takes her seat, always alert, always calculating.

Once they’re seated across from me, I waste no time getting to the point. “The Crimsonclaw Pack is becoming quite the problem,” I begin, my voice steady but firm. “They’ve attacked another Lycan pack, unprovoked.”

Ronan’s jaw tightens, his hands curling into fists on the armrests of his chair. “Which pack?” he asks, his voice low and controlled.

“Silverfang,” I reply. “The casualties were minimal, but it’s the principle. They’re testing boundaries, and it won’t be long before they turn their sights on us.”

Nyx leans forward, her sharp features illuminated by the desk lamp. “They’re either desperate or stupid. What’s the plan?”

I glance between them, the weight of responsibility pressing heavy on my shoulders. “We need to act. But first, I want to know why they’re escalating. Gather intelligence, assess their movements, and find out if there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

Both Ronan and Nyx nod their heads, their expressions resolute. As they rise to leave, I add, “This isn’t just about retaliation. It’s about sending a message. We can’t afford to show weakness.”

As the door clicks shut behind Ronan and Nyx, silence fills the room once more. I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling as my thoughts begin to wander. The weight of my title presses heavily on my shoulders, a burden I’ve carried since the day I became Lycan King.

The war between Lycans and werewolves has been a constant in my life, a bitter feud that has claimed countless lives on both sides. I’ve grown up amidst the chaos, seen the destruction it leaves in its wake. But from the moment I took the crown, I made it my mission to end this senseless conflict.

I banned unprovoked attacks, enforcing strict laws to maintain order between our kind and the werewolves. For a time, it seemed like progress was possible, like peace was within reach. But packs like Crimsonclaw threaten to undo everything I’ve worked for.

They’re a rough, unruly pack of werewolves, defiant and violent, as if they’ve forgotten, or chosen to ignore, who is in charge. Their latest attack on Silverfang is a blatant challenge to my authority. If I don’t act swiftly, it could reignite the fires of war, undoing years of effort in an instant.

I open the mind link again, reaching out to Ronan and Nyx. “You two should get a good night’s rest. First thing tomorrow morning, the three of us are heading out to Silverfang. We need to assess the situation and put an end to Crimsonclaw’s unprovoked attacks before this escalates any further.”

Their responses are immediate and resolute. “Understood.”

Closing the link, I rise from my chair, exhaustion settling into my bones. The long day has taken its toll, but there’s no time for self-pity. I head upstairs to my private apartment, the familiar surroundings offering a small measure of comfort.

As I lay down, my mind races with plans and possibilities. The Crimsonclaw Pack must be dealt with, but how far am I willing to go to ensure peace? These are the questions that keep me awake, even as I force myself to rest. Tomorrow will bring answers, or more challenges.

***

The next morning, I wake before the sun has fully risen, the soft gray light of dawn spilling through my apartment window. The air feels crisp, charged with the weight of what lies ahead. Rising from bed, I grab a duffle bag and begin packing the essentials, clothes, a few weapons, and other necessities. I’m not sure how long we’ll be gone, and it’s better to be prepared.

Once I’ve zipped up the bag, I open a mind link to Nyx and Ronan. “Meet me at the SUV. We leave in ten.”

Their acknowledgments are quick and concise, and by the time I reach the vehicle, they’re already there. Ronan leans casually against the passenger door, his bag slung over one shoulder, while Nyx stands nearby, checking the straps on her own bag.

“Morning,” I greet them, my voice low but steady.

“Morning,” they reply in unison.

We load our bags into the back of the SUV, each movement efficient and practiced. I slide into the driver’s seat, Ronan taking the passenger side and Nyx settling into the back. As the engine hums to life, we fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that comes from years of trust and shared purpose.

The road stretches out before us, the landscape shifting from the muted hues of the city to the dense greenery of the forests. The rhythmic sound of the tires on the asphalt is almost soothing, a backdrop to my swirling thoughts.

It’s Nyx who finally breaks the silence. “So, what’s the plan?” she asks, her tone curious but sharp. “I’m guessing this trip is just to gather information on the Crimsonclaw Pack?”

I glance at her in the rearview mirror, her piercing eyes meeting mine. “That’s the primary goal,” I reply, my hands steady on the wheel. “We need to understand why they’re escalating their attacks and whether there’s something, or someone, behind it. But make no mistake, if we find an opportunity to send a message, we will. They need to know there are consequences for their actions.”

Ronan nods his head, his expression thoughtful. “Do you think they’re acting alone, or could this be part of something bigger?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” I say firmly. “But we tread carefully. The last thing we need is to provoke a larger conflict.”

Nyx leans back in her seat, her sharp gaze never leaving me. “Understood. But if things go sideways, you know we’ve got your back.”

I give her a small nod of acknowledgment. “I know. And I’m counting on it.”

The conversation fades, and the SUV lapses back into silence. The tension in the air is palpable, but it’s laced with determination. Whatever awaits us at Silverfang, we’ll face it together.

***

We’ve been on the road for hours, the landscape shifting as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting the world in shades of orange and gold. We’re about halfway to the Silverfang Pack when the weather takes a sudden turn. Dark clouds roll in, blotting out the last rays of sunlight, and within moments, rain begins to pour in relentless sheets.

The storm comes out of nowhere, fierce and unyielding. I grip the wheel tightly, my eyes straining to see the road ahead even with my enhanced Lycan vision. The wipers work furiously, but it’s no use, the visibility is too poor.

After another mile of creeping forward, I pull off to the side of the road, the tires crunching against gravel. “It’s unsafe to keep driving in this,” I announce, turning to Ronan and Nyx. “We need to stop somewhere for the night and continue in the morning.”

Ronan nods his head, his expression calm and practical as always. Nyx is already on her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. “About two miles ahead, there’s a small human town,” she says, not looking up. “There’s bound to be a hotel there.”

I nod in agreement, and Ronan does the same. Starting the car again, I drive cautiously through the storm, the tension in the vehicle palpable as we navigate the unfamiliar road. Soon, the lights of the town come into view, a welcome reprieve from the oppressive darkness of the storm.

It doesn’t take long for Ronan to spot a hotel, a modest but welcoming structure with warm lights glowing in the windows. I park the SUV, and the three of us step out into the rain, hurrying inside to escape the chill.

The moment I step into the lobby, a scent hits me like a bolt of lightning. It’s sweet, intoxicating, and utterly irresistible. My entire body tenses as the realization dawns on me, "my mate is here".

The scent pulls me like a magnet, my heart pounding in my chest as my eyes scan the room. And then I see her.

She’s breathtaking, dark brown hair cascading over her shoulders, piercing blue eyes that seem to see straight through me. Her presence commands my attention in a way nothing else ever has. Before I can stop myself, the word slips from my lips, low and guttural.

“Mate,” I growl, the primal claim reverberating through the room.

But instead of joy or recognition, her face twists into an expression of sheer horror. The look takes me aback, freezing me in place.

Why is she afraid?

The storm outside seems to pale in comparison to the whirlwind inside me. My mate is here, standing before me, but something is wrong. Very wrong.