Alpha Kael
“The next wolf who offers me excuses instead of results will come to him.”
He didn’t peer at the corpse again. Didn’t have to — he’d felt the snap of bone in his fingers, heard the final gurgle as the rogue’s throat broke. Justice, swift and absolute. The Blackthorn way for three centuries.
Beneath it lay the city of Ironhaven, with its industrial centre spraying smoke into the star-ravaged sky. From here on high, Kael could easily see all of it: the humans’ districts where they scurried around like ants, the wolf territories carved to neat grids, the neutral areas where his word lay law. He ruled by blood and from fear.
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