Asher stood alone in the grand throne room of the Lycan castle, his gaze tracing the intricate decorations on the walls and the portraits of past Lycan Alphas that loomed over him.
Each face was captured with an intensity that seemed to stare into his soul, silently reminding him of the power he was surrounded by. Despite the grandeur, a slight edge of unease crept into him. This wasn't his territory, and the Lycans were known for their fierce protection of their traditions and bloodlines.
Yet Asher held his ground, driven by the image of Skylar—of the life they had once planned, of the memories that haunted his dreams. He had come here for one reason, and even the hostility in the room's air couldn't diminish that resolve.
