"Tell me, John," Nat asked, his curiosity evident in his gaze, "where do you come from? When did you meet Darius? And what about your lynx?"John's eyes widened in surprise at the questions, his lynx coming forward within him in response to Nat's inquiry. "How—" John began, but before he could finish, Nat smiled knowingly."It's in the eyes," Nat said, a playful glint dancing in his face. "Maybe one day we shall go for a run together, a little challenge perhaps?" he suggested, winking mischievously.The idea of running alongside Nat in his animal form sparked excitement within John, and he nodded eagerly in agreement. He couldn't wait to see Nat's snow leopard form and equally his lynx was ready to take on the feline friend. They strolled through town, engaging in lively conversation as they gradually got to know each other. The setup of the place was very similar to Darius's pack, with a welcoming atmosphere and friendly faces all around.Nat was young and welcoming, with a warm smi

Mason barged into Lex's office without bothering to knock, walking in as if he owned the place. Lex, accustomed to the warlock's brash demeanour, rose from his chair slowly, his movements deliberate and measured.He met Mason's gaze, refusing to be intimidated by the dark aura that surrounded the warlock.Mason's lips curled into a sneer as he addressed Lex, his tone dripping with disdain. "Time to get those losers that you call a pack together and get working," he spat.Lex's jaw clenched at the offensive remark, but he remained composed, his expression unreadable. With a nod, he gestured for Mason to follow him, his silence a subtle acknowledgment of the task at hand.As they walked, a palpable tension hung in the air between them, the nervous energy crackling like electricity between the two. Lex's movements were purposeful, each step a silent declaration of his determination to see their mission through to the end.Mason’s eyes, dark and piercing, bore into Lex's back, a silent re

The day of the full moon had arrived, bringing with it a palpable tension that hung heavy in the air. If the predictions held true, Mason and his werewolves would launch their attack today. The uncertainty surrounding the exact timing of the assault only heightened the unease. Moonrise occurred at 21:14, with the peak of the full moon set for 12:48 AM. Would the enemy strike before, during, or after the peak? Without a spy among the enemy pack to help them with such information, there was no way to know for sure. This detail only added to the tension, casting a shadow over their anticipation of what was to come.Darius and John sat in the pack dining hall alongside their comrades. Despite attempts to maintain a façade of normalcy, the tension was evident in the subdued atmosphere. On a typical day when lunch was being served, the room would be bustling with laughter and the playful chaos of children. Darius glanced to his right, where his mate sat. He took in John's profile, his fair

Desmond sat in his usual position, seated on the floor, his back against the cold stonewall of the cell. His arms were folded over his knees, and he rested his head on one of them, the dim light casting faint shadows across the room. It was a small comfort to him as the darkness was no longer as suffocating as it once was, courtesy of what he could only assume was the intervention of his mate. Though he still lacked the “luxuries” of the other cells, such as a bed or amenities, Desmond was no longer shackled like an animal. Instead, he had been granted small reprieves—a daily meal, the absence of chains—that served as a stark reminder of his newfound, albeit uncertain, freedom. Despite the lingering grime and tattered clothing, he felt a glimmer of strength returning to him, his body slowly healing from the wounds inflicted during his captivity. The scars would remain, a testament to his endurance and resilience in the face of adversity, but they no longer bore the weight of despair

"Ah, my little pet," Mason said, pulling a handcuffed Desmond forward. "Looks like he's been used as entertainment for that werewolf pack," he laughed without emotion. "Too bad he's now my little pet, and I have no intention of returning him." "Darius," the man, Desmond, whispered with a broken voice. He sounded broken. "My family?" he asked, and Darius replied, "Prius and Carla are here, fighting against the scum that is threatening their Luna's life." John's gaze flickered between Darius and the captive, his confusion palpable. He was about to voice his inquiry when Mason's voice cut through, demanding attention once more. "Enough with the sob stuff," Mason sneered, redirecting John's focus back to him. "So, the little lamb thinks he can challenge the big bad 'wolf'," Mason taunted, a smirk playing on his lips. John's eyes narrowed, a glint of defiance shining within them. "I've faced bigger threats than you," he declared, though uncertainty lingered beneath his bravado. Mason