Chapter 4

The recreation room of the barracks was loud and filled with the smell of cheap energy drinks. A few younger wolves were playing video games.

George, a scarred veteran, was yelling at a recruit. "That was a dog-shit formation! Is that new girl, Lily, brain-dead? She almost led our entire patrol straight into a Silver Creek ambush yesterday! I had to drag you idiots out myself!"

When he saw me enter, George froze. He waved the recruit away and walked over. "Lena? What happened? I heard Whitfield called you into the hall."

I walked to the center of the room and clapped my hands. "Listen up, everyone."

The fifteen elite warriors looked at each other, putting down their controllers and phones, and gathered around me.

I scanned the room, making sure there were no spies, then spoke plainly. "I'm leaving."

The room erupted.

"Lena, what the hell?!" George yelled. "Is this about the leaked intel? We all know that little bitch Lily did it! Why are you taking the blame?"

"Exactly! Is Whitfield blind? You're our captain!"

"If you leave, who's going to lead us?"

Looking at these fiercely loyal warriors, a wave of warmth rushed through me.

In my past life, after I died, George was the only one who risked his life to find my body. He was executed by Whitfield for protesting my exile.

I raised my hand, silencing them.

"I didn't come here to complain," I said, my voice dropping to a low whisper as I looked at each of them. "You all know how Whitfield took the Alpha seat. My father's death wasn't an accident."

The air in the room instantly turned to ice. The older warriors exchanged grim looks.

"Being exiled is actually a good thing," I continued. "I can move freely on the outside. When I'm ready, I am coming back to take this pack."

I stared into George's eyes. "George, when that day comes, I need you beside me. Not as a captain—but standing right behind me when I reclaim the throne."

George’s throat bobbed. "Lena... are you saying..."

"I'm going to overthrow him," I said, every word dripping with cold steel. "I’m taking back what belonged to my father. Anyone who wants in, pack your bags. Meet me outside the territory within three days. If you don't, forget I was ever here."

Silence. Ten agonizing seconds of silence.

Suddenly, George slammed his fist on the table, making the soda cans jump. "Hell yes! I've been sick of serving that coward Whitfield anyway! Lena, I’m with you!"

"Count me in! I'm packing my gear right now!"

"Me too! This pack is dead anyway!"

Every single one of them. All fifteen elite fighters chose to follow me.

A dark, cold smile spread across my face.

*Alpha Whitfield, Marcus... you thought you could banish me and live happily ever after with your little princess?*

*You have no idea what kind of storm is coming for you.*