Logan was born different.
He'd known this to be fact from a very young age.
He'd never felt a sense of belonging with anyone. Most people his age were too naïve. Their resolves were weak. Their wills bendable.
Entirely replaceable.
He was exceptional.
In strength, in wits, in resolve. Logan Thornwood was unbeatable, even in his losses, there was always a victory.
Logan stood in his bedroom at a penthouse in New York, watching the sun hide behind towering building as the day came to an end. Usually he did not care for reminiscence, but today his mind was adamant on wandering.
Hans Thornwood wasn't from Germany, nor was he of the Alpha bloodline. He was from a small pack somewhere in Scotland, but had found himself to be the soulmate of an Alpha's daughter in Berlin.
According to custom, he was the one who left his home behind.
