Brock’s Point Of ViewI trained relentlessly to become the finest warrior our pack had ever known. My father, then the Alpha, was a hero to us – kind, fair, and beloved. Despite his lessons to make me fierce, he never aimed to expand our territory or provoke conflicts with other packs. When sent to train with future Alphas, I felt embarrassed by our pack's modest size. I mistakenly deemed my father a coward, believing his aversion to aggression showed weakness. My mother, the ideal Luna, hosted celebrations, and comforted new mothers, yet she didn't train for combat. I didn't yearn for the deep connection my parents shared, which tragically led to their demise. The evening my mother was taken, my father prepared for war out of love for her. For the first time, I felt true pride for him, although I had never expressed it. That night, the role of Alpha fell to me, as we lost not only my father but also his Beta. The fragmented tales of that
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