Darrian's POV
☆☆☆☆☆
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
I was half a second away from letting it go to voicemail when I saw the name flash across the screen.
Alpha Marcus Blackthorn.
My fingers twitched.
That name alone was enough to stir the wolf beneath my skin, teeth bared, fur bristling, begging for blood. I hadn't heard his voice since the Treaty Summit two years ago-where he'd spat words laced with arrogance and veiled threats.
I should've gutted him then.
I answered with a low growl. "Marcus."
"Well, well," came the voice on the other end, slick and venomous. "The infamous Alpha Darrian. I hear you've got something that belongs to me."
My hand clenched around the phone.
Heather.
Of course.
He knew.
"I don't have anything of yours," I said coldly. "But I do have someone you lost."
He chuckled, and the sound made my wolf snarl. "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she? Had to break her in, of course. So soft, so sweet. But she learned to obey eventually."
I didn't realize I'd shattered the edge of my desk until splinters bit into my palm.
"Careful," Marcus said lazily. "Wouldn't want to damage your pretty face before I rip it off. She's mine, Darrian. She's marked in my records. She belongs to the Blackthorn pack."
"She belongs to no one," I snapped, voice low and deadly. "Not anymore."
"You think your little sanctuary gives her immunity?" Marcus hissed. "You're harboring a fugitive, Darrian. I have every right to reclaim her."
"She's not a fugitive. She's my mate."
Silence.
Then a slow, sick laugh.
"Oh, the moon goddess really does have a twisted sense of humor," Marcus murmured. "You're bound to that broken bitch? That's rich."
I saw red.
"Say her name again," I growled. "I dare you."
"You think you've won something," Marcus continued, ignoring the threat. "But all you've done is sign her death sentence. You can't protect her forever. And when I come for her, you'll get to watch as I-"
I hung up.
Then I crushed the phone in my hand.
I was already down the hall before the shards hit the floor.
"Ronan," I barked into the comms.
"Yes, Alpha?" my Beta answered instantly.
"Alert the sentries. Double patrol rotations. No one crosses our borders without my word."
"Understood."
"And prepare the war chamber. I want my advisors ready in thirty minutes."
"Darrian?" Rhiannon's voice echoed from the stairs as I turned the corner. "What's going on?"
"Marcus called," I snapped. "He's coming for her."
Her face went still. "Shit."
I didn't slow. I didn't breathe.
This was inevitable. The moment I accepted Heather into this pack, the moment I decided to protect her-it was always going to come to this.
War.
My pack would follow me. They always did. But this wasn't just territory lines or border skirmishes. This was personal. Marcus hadn't just abused a rogue. He'd broken a woman the moon goddess chose for me.
And now he thought he could take her back.
No.
He didn't know what I was capable of when something was mine.
The war chamber buzzed with tension, the room filled with lieutenants, scouts, and enforcers. Maps covered the table. Swords lined the walls.
I stood at the head, silent, as they filtered in.
Then I spoke.
"Alpha Marcus Blackthorn has declared intent to violate our borders and reclaim a member of this pack."
Murmurs erupted.
"His claim is false," I continued. "Heather is not a rogue. She is my mate. And she is under my protection."
Eyes widened. Even the veterans among them stiffened at the word mate.
"This is no longer a border dispute," I said coldly. "This is a blood feud. And if Marcus wants a war-"
I let my claws slide out, silver-tipped and razor sharp.
"-then we'll give him one."
The table went silent.
Then Ronan stepped forward and bowed his head.
"For the Luna," he said.
And the room echoed with the sound of warriors rising to their feet.
"For the Luna," they chanted.
A fire burned in my chest.
He could call her weak.
He could call me foolish.
But when he came to my border, he'd see just how far I'd go to protect what was mine.
And Marcus Blackthorn?
Would not leave my land alive.