Page 1 of Runt of the Pack
1
VLAD
Rome, Italy.
Rain pours down as I unleash a barrage of strikes against the training dummy. My fists pound the padded leather, each hit thunderous and unchecked. I weave and lunge with predatory speed, visualizing enemies surrounding me.
My pack gathers under the shelter of stone, watching as I train shirtless in the downpour. Rivulets trace the ridges of my powerful frame, soaking into the fur of the twin wolves inked across my right arm.
With a final crushing kick, the dummy’s head rockets through the air. My audience roars as I turn to them, chest heaving.
“Let’s see if the rest of you can match your Alpha,” I call out, tossing Pietro a staff. The pack laughs and steps into the rain to spar.
I pluck the dummy head from the mud and squeeze until it splits into two pieces, falling to the ground. No one thought I was meant to lead. But I have forged myself into the warrior I am today. An Alpha who bows to no one.
My tactical boots echo on the cold marble steps as I stride back into the sprawling estate, rain dripping from my body, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. A hot shower washes away the chill rain, but unease lingers in my gut.
Once dressed in a bespoke Oxford grey suit, four stone-faced betas flank me as I descend to the first floor. We move down the manor’s cavernous halls lit by iron sconces, and I detect subtle notes of anxiety tainting the air. My inner wolf bristles.
Luca, a slender beta with sharp features, approaches me in the grand foyer framed by towering marble columns. “Alpha Vlad, Enrico awaits you in the parlor,” he says, eyes downcast submissively.
I nod and move forward without a word. The parlor’s intricate double doors groan as betas Luca and Paulo open them in unison. Inside, Enrico stands swiftly, tension in his hunched shoulders.
“What news?” I demand, steeling myself, although my heart quickens now that I stand seconds away from hearing the answer.
But before Enrico can respond, the parlor doors burst open again. Two more betas drag a battered and bloodied wolf shifter into the room. He whimpers and struggles against their grip.
I recognize him instantly—Antonio, one of my newest recruits. Fresh from Naples. My eyes narrow as I take in his wounds, his shredded clothing. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Apologies, Alpha,” Paulo says. “We discovered this omega fleeing from a territorial battle. He deserted his own to save himself.”
Antonio won’t meet my gaze.
A heavy silence settles in the room. To abandon one’s packmates, even in the face of defeat—it’s the greatest dishonor for our kind. Inside me, two wolves war. The Alpha, incensed by such cowardice. The omega runt, who once believed himself too weak to lead or fight.
“There can be no forgiveness for such betrayal,” Luca spits. Murmurs of agreement echo from the others.
Slowly, I approach Antonio, now trembling before me. Still a youth, barely twenty. Eyes full of fear and shame. He does not see a powerful leader standing over him now—only the ruthless pack that abandoned their unwanted omega so long ago.
My voice is steel when I speak, though my heart wars with pity. “You renounced your vows to your pack. Therefore, you shall be renounced by this one. No clan can harbor a deserter.”
I grip Antonio’s chin hard, forcing his eyes to meet my own. “But loyalty and sacrifice can repay even the deepest dishonor. Prove this to me... and perhaps you may find your place in my pack again.”
I release him with a shove. “Take him. He’s banned from these lands until his redemption.” Stunned silence follows as Antonio is dragged away. An omega granted a second chance—unheard of in our ancient traditions. But mercy and trust shall bind my pack... not fear.
I turn back to Enrico, who waits patiently despite the sudden interruption. My heartbeat spikes, reminded of why my Enforcer requested this meeting. Whatever news he’s uncovered must be important enough to risk my wrath at the disruption.
“You were saying?” I prompt. I clasp my hands behind my back to hide their shaking.
Enrico lifts his chin. “Yes, Alpha. My news.” He pauses, as if gathering courage. “We’ve found him, my Alpha,” he begins.
Instantly, I stiffen, my hands curled into tight fists out of their own accord. I’ve been waiting for this moment for almost a decade. Grisha—the vicious snake who betrayed my brother Gavriil and murdered Bella, his first mate. I swore a blood oath to my brother to deliver Grisha’s wretched head on a spike. At last, we have him. Almost.
“Where?” I am curt.
“Grisha Vorobyev was spotted in Sestroretsk.” Enrico meets my glare. “Near your brother’s summer home.”
“Fuck!” I growl. “Gavriil is there on holiday... with his human mate, Luciana.” When my gaze cuts to my Enforcer’s, he understands. If Grisha dared show his face in Sestroretsk, it can only mean one thing—he plots against Gavriil once more.
