Timothy caught wind of the news—elder Tricia would step into the royal beta position. He clicked his tongue in irritation. Poor Flynn. Whatever else could be said about the man, he'd been damn good at his job.
The royal gamma let out a heavy sigh as his mind turned to the battle looming ahead.
Two weeks he'd been stationed here, and victory against the Obsidian Claw pack was almost within reach.
The only wrench in his plans? The Crimson Fang pack.
Those shifters were slippery as hell. Latest intel suggested they'd sealed an alliance through some mating ceremony between Reginald and alpha Theodore's daughter.
Reginald had managed to slip away, though not without paying a price. From what Timothy had pieced together, the bastard lost sight in his left eye and a pinky finger during his clash with the king.
Shame Perry hadn't finished the job.
"Royal gamma Timothy, movement detected at the fortress," a warrior reported, snapping him from his thoughts.
