When Dravon finally spoke, it wasn't to beg.
It was to ask.
"What's going to happen to us?"
His voice was hoarse, his throat raw from battle, but his gaze never left the unconscious figure of his daughter, Selene, lying limp on the ground.
Lucas followed his line of sight.
"It's simple," he said. "You're all officially rogues."
A ripple of shock passed through the defeated wolves.
Lucas smirked. "The Bloodhound Pack doesn't belong to you anymore, Dravon. You know the rules. I didn't make them."
Dravon exhaled sharply, his hands shaking. He looked around at what remained of his people, the ones who had fought for him, bled for him and lost.
He let out a bitter laugh. "You…" His gaze shifted to Leon. "You are a weakling. What did you get in return for betraying me?"
Leon stood tall.
"Peace," he said simply. "And my pack back."
