The long wooden table practically groaned under the weight of the feast the pack had prepared for their Alpha's breakfast. Golden brown waffles stacked a foot high, glistening with maple syrup. Plump strawberries nestled in clouds of whipped cream. Crispy bacon strips crisscrossed like an edible lattice atop fluffy scrambled eggs. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee perfumed the air, though honestly? It smelled a bit burnt.Yet despite this feast, Alpha Magnus sat alone at the head of the table, His blonde head bent over his phone. He was too busy crushing candies on his phone, his long fingers deftly maneuvering level 352. At 110 years old (though he looked a crisp 27), Magnus had seen it all: wars, betrayals, and enough breakfast platters to feed a small nation. None of it interested him anymore. Well, Maybe the bacon still did, a little. His tattoo, hidden beneath the high neckline of his shirt, stirred faintly, as if even it were bored.Magnus' tattoo wasn't the only thing that kept
Last Updated : 2026-02-04 Read more