Kleon trudged through the forest, the weight of his exile pressing down on him with every step. The towering trees offered little comfort, their shadows stretching long in the fading daylight. He clutched the small bag of supplies Lyra had allowed him to take, its contents a pitiful reminder of the life he had left behind.
The quiet of the forest was deceptive. Kleon’s instincts told him he wasn’t alone, but he couldn’t pinpoint why. He quickened his pace, his breath visible in the crisp evening air.
Then, the ambush came.
It started with a sharp rustle of leaves. Before Kleon could react, a wolf lunged from the shadows, knocking him to the ground. He struggled, but more attackers emerged, their forms dark and menacing. The rogues were organized, their movements precise. Kleon’s attempts to fight back were futile against their numbers.
“Not much of a fighter, are you?” one of the rogues sneered, pinning him down. “What’s a pup like you doing out here alone?”
Kleon gritted his teeth, refusing to answer. But the rogue leader, a towering figure with piercing eyes and a cruel smirk, stepped forward. “Enough. Bind him.”
The world blurred as they tied his hands and blindfolded him. He felt the rough jostling of being dragged, the cold bite of the wind against his skin. When the blindfold was removed, he found himself in a dimly lit stone chamber. A figure stood before him, regal and imposing, his presence demanding attention.
“Welcome,” the man said, his voice smooth and commanding. “I am the Alpha King, and you, young wolf, are now in my domain.”
Kleon stared at him, his fear tempered by a flicker of defiance. “What do you want from me?”
The Alpha King smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “To teach you what it means to be strong. You’ve been thrown away by your pack, discarded like a broken toy. But I see potential in you. And I will shape you into something worthy.”