Nightshade Pack
The room was heavy with tension as the council of Alphas debated over pack alliances and rogue attacks. Sitting at the head of the long oak table, I observed them with the authority I was born to command. My title, Majestic, wasn't just a name—it was a reminder of who I was. The Lycan King, feared and respected across all territories.
Their voices droned on, each Alpha eager to voice their opinions, but my mind wandered. My bond with Aria pulsed faintly in the back of my mind, a gentle warmth that usually kept me grounded. Yet today, something felt off.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my chest, like a dagger piercing my heart. I inhaled sharply, my hand instinctively going to my chest. The Alphas turned to look at me, concern etched on their faces.
"Majestic, are you alright?" Alpha Rowan asked cautiously.
