Chapter 4

Dorian pov.

The meeting was beginning to bore me. Endless discussions, caution, strategies—things better left to old men who still clung to their illusions of control. My patience was wearing thin, and the Beast within me itched for release, his primal hunger whispering in the back of my mind.

Then, the doors to the hall burst open. A guard strode in, face pale, breathing heavy.

"My Lords," he announced. "The border has been breached. Hunters have taken our men hostage."

Every eye in the room snapped to him. Even Maximilian, who had remained composed and disinterested throughout most of the discussions, lifted his gaze with sharpened interest.

"Their leader demands to speak with Alpha Alaric," the guard continued, voice tight with urgency.

For a moment, silence reigned. Then Alaric cursed under his breath and pushed himself up.

"I'll handle this," he muttered, but his posture betrayed him. His scent soured with fear.

"Of course you will," I murmured, standing as well.

Alaric turned to leave, the others rising in unison, but I extended a hand. "Not you." My gaze flicked to Seraphina, Selene and finaly Freya , who had been lounging at the far end of the table. "Stay here."

Selene pouted. "But, Dorian—"

I didn't even bother looking at her. "I won't say it again."

She huffed but didn't argue further. Seraphina, ever the calculating bitch, simply smiled and inclined her head. "As you wish, my Prince."

We stepped into the cold night air, our boots crunching against the gravel as we moved towards the border. The moment I approached, I felt the tension thick in the air. Our men had gathered, a thick wall of warriors standing at the ready. The scent of blood lingered faintly, but no fresh bodies decorated the ground. Yet.

Then I saw him.

Tiberius.

The man stood tall, his stance confident, relaxed. He was impressive, I would give him that—broad shoulders, golden hair catching in the torchlight, eyes a striking green, filled with something dark and unreadable. His exposed arms bore the intricate tattoos of the hunters, swirling symbols inked deep into his flesh.

He was dangerous.

But so was I.

His gaze swept over the gathered warriors before landing on me. A slow, amused smirk stretched across his lips. "Didn't expect royalty," he mused. "Must be my lucky night."

His gaze flicked to Alaric, and the amusement deepened into something more sinister. "And you, you old dog. Still alive. I'm almost impressed."

Alaric clenched his jaw. "You're a fool for coming here, Tiberius."

Tiberius chuckled. "Oh, Alaric, you wound me. We both know I don't do things without reason."

Maximilian finally stepped forward, his presence shifting the energy of the standoff. "What do you want?" His voice was sharp, cutting through the night like a blade.

Tiberius tilted his head, his grin unfaltering. He flashed a knowing smile at the King before turning his attention back to Alaric. "Alaric, you know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you? Funny how you never shared this knowledge with your King."

Silence. Then he exhaled sharply "I want what was stolen from us. And until I get her, this little peace we've been pretending to have?" He let out a humorless laugh. "It's over."

Alaric stiffened. I watched him closely, eyes narrowing as he struggled to control his reaction. The man was terrified. Of Tiberius. Of what he might reveal.

I didn't like that.

"You will not get what you want," Alaric finally spat. "Just like Lucius and Ronan never did."

Something flickered across Tiberius' face then. Anger. A restrained, deadly sort of anger.

"You really want to bring up my father ?" His voice was quieter now, dangerous. "He was a fool. But at least he knew when to cut his losses." His fingers twitched at his side, but he didn't reach for a weapon. Not yet.

"What makes you think you'll succeed where he failed?" Alaric sneered.

Tiberius' smirk faded. "Because unlike him, I don't make the same mistakes twice." His voice hardened. "Give me Freya."

I went still.

The name rang in my ears, reverberating through my skull. I turned my gaze to Alaric, and for the first time tonight, I saw real panic flicker in his eyes.

Freya?

What the fuck did she have to do with this?

Alaric laughed, a bitter, caustic sound. "Never."

Tiberius exhaled, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. "I hoped you'd see reason. But I came prepared."

He lifted a hand. A second later, screams echoed through the air. My head snapped towards the sound.

The captured wolves.

One by one, their bodies hit the ground, lifeless.

I could feel the shift, the rage that rippled through our ranks. The Beast inside me roared, demanding retribution. But I stayed still, watching as Tiberius lowered his hand.

"I'll never stop," he said, voice eerily calm. "Until she's mine."

Then, before any of us could react, he disappeared into the night.

Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy.

Freya.

My jaw tightened as I turned back to Alaric, who looked as though he might be sick.

I hated not knowing things. I hated being left out of secrets. And now, it seemed, there was something much bigger at play than I had anticipated.

I glanced at Maximilian. His face was unreadable, but I could see the gears turning in his mind.

This wasn't over.

Not even fucking close.