Chapter 229

DEREK'S POV The air inside Draven’s packhouse was thick, perfumed with smoke from the great fireplace and the sweet tang of aged wine. Derek walked in, his stride sharp and controlled, though inside his blood simmered. He had not come here as a nephew greeting an elder but as an Alpha confronting another Alpha. Draven sat in his high-backed chair, posture relaxed, golden rings gleaming on his fingers as though he wore his victories on his skin. His eyes flickered with that same smugness Derek had known since childhood—the same look that had always belittled him, always made him feel like the boy who could never measure up. “So,” Derek said, his voice cold, “you want to claim the unclaimed land near the border.” Draven’s lips curved into an almost predatory smile. “Ah, straight to the point. You’ve grown sharper, Derek. But yes. That land belongs in my territory, not scattered between wolves who don’t know what to do with it.” He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Besides, don’t tell me yo