Damian Blackwood stood in his penthouse office, the quiet of the space broken only by the soft hum of the city below. Stacks of papers on his desk were not just business deals, but shields, walls he'd built to keep safe the Blackwood Pack. Every deal he signed, every acquisition he orchestrated, was a step toward keeping his pack safe in a world that would, given the chance, utterly destroy them.
The faint scar on his temple tingled, a phantom reminder of the night his life had changed forever. His first pack—his family—was slaughtered when he was just a boy. He still remembered the screams, the fire, and his mother's last words: "Survive. Rebuild." He had done both. He had become Alpha, rebuilt his pack, and created an empire that made Blackwood Industries untouchable.
But the past had a way of clawing back. The rogue attacks were growing bolder. Damian knew better than to ignore the signs—they weren't just a nuisance anymore. This was a challenge to his authority.
The door opened without a knock, and Marcus Kane entered. His beta, his right hand, and the only person Damian fully trusted. Marcus's face was grim, a stack of photos in his hand.
"Damian," Marcus said, his voice low but firm. "We got another problem. Rogues. East quadrant."
Damian's jaw clenched as Marcus dropped the photos onto the desk. Blooded tree trunks, claw marks gouged into bark, and unmistakable signs of a rogue incursion. Damian's fists curled into mallets.
"How many this time?" he asked.
"Six. Maybe more. Coordinated," Marcus said, his voice heavy. "They're not just testing us anymore. That was deliberate."
"Double the patrols," Damian said immediately. "No gaps, no delays. I want every vulnerable point sealed."
Marcus nodded but was frowning. "It's not just the east quadrant, Damian. The rogues are spreading out. We've seen signs near the southern boundary, too."
"Then tighten the perimeter," Damian snapped. "We can't let them gain any more ground."
Marcus's hesitation was profound, his eyes flicking to Damian. "And Isabella?"
It struck a nerve. Isabella Greer was new to his world, an outsider who had no idea what she had stepped into. She had been hired for her intelligence and determination—qualities Damian found more attractive than he was willing to admit—but she was also a liability. She didn't know about the pack, the rogues, or the war simmering just beneath the surface. And keeping her ignorant was becoming harder with every passing day.
“She’s not involved,” Damian said firmly. “Her place is here, in the office. That’s it.”
Marcus frowned. “She’s sharp, Damian. Sooner or later, she’s going to figure out something’s wrong.”
“Then I’ll handle it,” Damian said, his tone hard. “When the time comes.”
Marcus didn't argue, but the look on his face said he wasn't convinced. He turned and left the office, leaving Damian alone with the weight of his responsibilities. Damian ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. The rogues were getting bolder, and Isabella was already too close to secrets she couldn't know.
Hours later, Damian stood at the window, gazing out at the city. The skyline stretched before him, a glittering reminder of everything he had built. Blackwood Industries wasn't just a corporation; it was a fortress, a barrier between his pack and a world that would hunt them down if their existence were ever exposed.
But the rogues were threatening to tear it all apart. They weren't just wild wolves acting on instinct. They were organized, strategic, and dangerous. And Damian knew that their attacks weren't just about territory—they were personal. They were challenging him, testing his strength as Alpha.
He thought of Isabella again. She was a complication from the start: tenacious and intelligent, but also a risk. She didn't belong in his world, but she was already inching her way closer to truths that would destroy her. And he couldn't decide which of those things scared him more: that she would learn or that he gave a shit enough to be afraid.
The door opened once more and Marcus returned, his face even grimmer than before.
"They're moving," Marcus said without warning. "Another group, heading toward the western boundary. It's a diversion."
Damian narrowed his eyes. "To draw us away from the east?"
Marcus nodded. "They're trying to split us. If we focus too much on one front, they'll hit us where we're weakest."
Damian’s mind worked quickly, calculating the best response. “Send a small patrol to the west. Just enough to make them think we’ve taken the bait. I’ll handle the east myself.”
Marcus stiffened. “Damian—”
“It’s not up for debate,” Damian said, his voice sharp. “This is my fight.”
Marcus hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod. “Understood.”
The night air was chilled as Damian stepped out onto the eastern boundary of their territory, his senses heightened. The forest seemed quiet, the sounds that would normally be present under the cover of darkness-animals that roamed nocturnally-replaced with oppressive stillness. He could feel the rogues' presence before he could see them, their scent sharp and acrid in the air.
They stepped out of the darkness, their eyes glowing in the moonlight. Six of them, just as Marcus had said. Damian stood his ground, his Alpha presence radiating power. The rogues hesitated, their movements uncertain. They weren't used to facing a true Alpha, and they could feel the difference.
"This is your only warning," Damian said, his voice low and commanding. "Leave. Now.
One of the rogues stepped forward, a sneer curling his lips. “You can’t protect them forever, Blackwood. Your pack, your empire—it’s all crumbling. And we’ll be the ones to tear it down.”
Damian’s eyes glowed, his wolf surging just beneath the surface. “Try.”
The fight was brutal, swift, and absolutely decisive. Damian moved with lethal precision, his strength and speed unmatched. The rogues did not stand a chance. Within minutes, they either lost or ran back into the shadows, and their challenge was crushed.
As the forest returned to silence, Damian stood among the wreckage, his breathing steady with adrenaline, though the fight was over and the war was far from won.
The weight of the night settled over him as Damian returned to Blackwood Tower. Rogues were growing bolder, more organized. And though he tried his best to keep his worlds separate, he knew it was only a matter of time before Isabella became entangled in the conflict.
Standing by the window again, Damian gazed out into the city, the moon's light upon the skyline. He built this empire to protect his pack, to ensure their survival. Now, cracks were beginning to show, and for the first time in his life, Damian questioned if even he was strong enough to hold it all together.
