To Rule the Tsar Alpha's Heart
This time it was the sound of old wounds reopening, old fears clawing back.
A voice from a screen, an African elder, his face carved with lines of wisdom, spoke slowly.
“I’ll be keeping in touch with the Morgana pride. If what you're saying is true, then they need a warning.”
I met his gaze through the screen.
“Yes. Do that.”
The words hung heavy.
“The werecats are living solemnly in my territory, I am supposed to give them warning. They deserved it to know,” the alpha of the Indonesian pack said.
I inhaled deeply, the weight of centuries on my shoulders, the fury of my wolf burning in my veins.
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