POV: RafeThe city smelled like tension, metal, and fear.Every street, every alley, every rooftop whispered of impending violence. Packs were mobilizing, claws unsheathed, teeth bared. But this wasn’t chaos yet. Not fully. Not until I made the first move.I stood on the edge of the Volkov compound, watching the northern docks territory of Dragomir’s remnants. They thought they had time. They thought the truce held. They were wrong.My wolf thrummed beneath my skin, warning, urging, restless. But I didn’t care. Not tonight.“They have to understand,” I muttered, voice low, dangerous. “They think they can wait. They think fear alone will control them.”A dozen enforcers flanked me, silent, lethal, ready. We didn’t move until I gave the word.My hands tightened on the metal railing. I could feel every heartbeat in the street below. The distant lights flickered across containers, revealing figures shifting, unaware, unprepared.I thought of Lena.Her choice. Her absence. My world without
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