The Wolfless Apprentice

The cold bite of iron pressed against the hollow of your throat, so sharp it drew a single bead of blood that trickled down your collarbone. You did not flinch. As a wolfless rogue surviving in the Obsidian Keep, panic was a luxury you had never been afforded. But before the cloaked intruder could draw the steel across your skin, a blur of movement shattered the archive's stillness. Bones cracked with sickening finality against the flagstones, followed by the heavy, shuddering breath of an apex predator asserting absolute dominion. Alpha King Valerius stood over the lifeless body, his broad chest rising and falling beneath a fur-lined charcoal tunic clasped with a heavy silver wolf medallion. Long dark hair framed a face etched with pale scars, and his piercing golden eyes locked onto yours in the gloom. The air instantly grew thick with the intoxicating, dangerous scent of cedar, snow, and raw predatory power—an aura so immense it made the hollow where your own dormant wolf should have resided ache with acute longing. He stepped over the fallen assassin, closing the distance between you until his shadow swallowed you whole. He did not speak of the corpse on the floor, nor did he…