Greyson snapped back from the painful journey down memory lane, his eyes fixated on the worn photograph of Vlad clutched tightly in his hands.
The image, faded and weathered, possessed the weight of his smoldering desire for retribution—a desire that had been suppressed at his late wife's urging, when they had wed and welcomed their daughter, Luna.
But now, there was no containing it.
With a determined surge, Greyson's fingers instinctively sought his phone, grasping it firmly. His heart raced as he dialed the number, seeking solace and trust in the one person he believed in.
Each ring seemed to resonate with mounting anticipation, until finally, Jacob's voice pierced through the airwaves like a melodious siren's call.
"Hello? Greetings, Alpha Greyson," Jacob's surprised tone carried through, even with the slight crackle of the connection.
