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He lunged, a silver blur of fury and purpose.

Just before his claws could sink into Iverson's flesh, the senator released Seraphina and shifted with practiced speed. Where the polished politician had stood seconds before now crouched a massive black wolf with eyes like arctic ice.

Seraphina collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, her eyes wide with shock and awe as she witnessed his transformation for the first time.

Iverson's wolf snarled, saliva dripping from yellowed fangs. The scent of ambition and madness rolled off him in waves, tainting the air.

From behind, Orion heard the commotion as two more wolves sprinted down the hallway, aiming straight for Chance and the elite guards who flanked him. His packmates shifted in response, their bodies twisting and changing in fluid, practiced motions.

The room and hallway erupted into chaos—snarls and snapping jaws, bodies colliding with bone-crushing force. Fur, teeth, claws everywhere.

Orion circled Iverson, his massive gray form positioning itself between the senator's wolf form and Seraphina. Every muscle in his body was coiled tightly, ready to strike.

Mine.She is MINE.

Iverson feinted left before attacking right, his jaws snapping at Orion's flank. The king was faster, twisting away and countering with a slash that opened a red line across the senator's shoulder.

For a moment, their gazes locked over bared teeth—ancient power against blind ambition, tradition facing corruption.

Between rapid breaths, Seraphina's voice cut through the growls. "Orion..."

The sound of her voice, raspy from Iverson's assault but still strong, fueled something deeply primal in him. His Luna needed him. Nothing else mattered. Not his kingdom, not his pride, and not his centuries of careful diplomacy.

Iverson lunged again, but this time Orion was ready. His massive jaws clamped down on the senator's foreleg with a sickening crunch. The black wolf howled in pain, trying to twist free.

Behind them, Chance, in his dark brown wolf form, was making short work of one opponent while the elite guards cornered the other.

Orion released Iverson's leg only to circle again, his gray fur raised along his spine, and his eyes glowing with centuries of power and the promise of retribution.

No one touches what is mine.

As Orion stalked around his opponent, the black wolf's features suddenly struck a chord deep within his memory. The way Iverson's ears twitched backward, the unusual pattern of his stance, and the calculating glint in those ice-blue eyes—Orion had seen them before. Four centuries ago.

Ambrose Renehan.

The realization crashed through Orion's consciousness like a thunderbolt. This was no mere power-hungry senator. This was the wolf who had nearly torn the packs apart with his machinations all those centuries ago.

All this time... hiding among the humans, consolidating power.

The pieces fell into place with sickening clarity. Ambrose had always been patient, playing the long game, waiting for his opportunity to seize what he believed was rightfully his.

The assembly of packs had chosen Orion over him four centuries ago for exactly this reason—Ambrose's hunger for domination rather than protection, his willingness to sacrifice others for personal gain. While Orion had dedicated himself to preserving their ways, building alliances, and protecting their kind, Ambrose had apparently been nursing his grudge, waiting for revenge.

He would twist Seraphina's gift to corrupt everything I've built.

The thought of his Luna being forced to serve this creature's ambition made Orion's blood boil. A deep, rumbling growl emanated from his chest, the sound of ancient fury finally unleashed. The room seemed to vibrate with it.

"Finish this," Chance's voice broke through in the wolf's telepathic channel that all shifters shared. "I've got these jokers handled."

Chance slammed his opponent against the wall, teeth bared inches from the struggling wolf's throat. Behind them, the elite guards had their adversary pinned, outmatched and outmaneuvered.

Iverson—no, Ambrose—sensed his disadvantage. His wolves falling. His schemes unraveling. The black wolf made a desperate lunge toward Seraphina, clearly intending to use her as leverage.

It was exactly the opening Orion needed.

Orion had learned many things over his years of being king. Patience. Strategy. Diplomacy. But it had never dimmed the primal instinct that came with being alpha—the drive to protect what was his at all costs.

With a burst of speed that belied his massive size, Orion intercepted, his body a wall of muscle and gray fur between Ambrose and Seraphina. The impact sent both wolves skidding across the polished floor, claws scraping for purchase as they tumbled in a tangle of teeth and fur.