The Kings Omega
Her sister, sick and vulnerable, would pay the price for her foolishness.
“Which pack are you from?” Kaelen demanded, his tone clipped. He needed information, facts, anything to anchor himself in the face of this maelstrom of emotion.
“Silver… Silver Creek, Your Majesty,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
“Silver Creek,” he repeated, the name tasting like ash in his mouth. It was a small, unassuming pack, known for its quiet diligence, not for producing powerful mates. He ran a hand through his dark hair, dislodging a cloud of flour. He felt trapped, cornered by fate in this dusty, forgotten corridor. He wanted to rage, to roar his frustration to the uncaring stone walls. But he cou
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