The cavern smells of ash and wet stone, torches flickering against the jagged walls.
The Lycan Lord stands at the head of the war table, his massive form cloaked in shadows, golden eyes burning like twin suns.
"They're hiding her," he growls, voice rough with fury. "Caging her behind warriors and walls. But it won't matter."
Around him, his alphas murmur, shifting restlessly. Some bear scars from past skirmishes. Others carry the scent of fresh blood. All of them wear the same hungry look — the look of predators denied a kill.
"They know she's valuable," one of the lieutenants says. "The Alpha treats her like a queen now."
"She's more than that," the Lycan Lord snaps. "She's the key."
"The key to what?" another growls.
The Lycan Lord steps forward, slamming a clawed hand down on the map. It curls beneath his strength.
"To power. To dominion. To ending this cursed bloodline once and for all."
The room stills.
"She's tied to something ancient," he continues, voice lowering. "You've all felt it. The moment she stepped into our territory, the earth shuddered. She carries magic — dormant, perhaps. But old. Wild."
"And we don't know how to use it."
"Not yet. But we will."
He looks up, meeting each warrior's gaze.
"Bring her to me alive. Kill anyone who gets in the way. Break their gates. Bleed their pack."
A general steps forward. "What of the Alpha?"
The Lycan Lord's eyes narrow.
"Leave him for me."
He turns back to the map, tapping a point in the forest.
"This is where we strike first. Tonight. A test. Draw them out. Make them think they're in control."
"And when we take her?" another asks.
The Lycan Lord smiles — all teeth and madness.
"She'll beg to join us when she sees what she truly is."