Me and the Devil

He smiled, pleased by the male’s inquiry, the way he carried himself and the way he spoke hinted at a man who did as he pleased and suffered no consequences, the very kind of wolf that Erövrare would favor.

“The name means ‘Conqueror’ or so my son tells me.” He explained, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched the male for signs of interest. “It will be a home for the strong, who will not suffer to care for the needs of the weak.” He explained further, his gaze hardening with steeled resolve as he mentally rolled over the laws he wished to enforce in his kingdom once it rose.

“Position is based on skill and the opinion of others, ranks will either be earned or elected into, a pack for the people, one that follows no bloodline but rather follows the strong.” They had been traits he had tried to enforce when he was a boy king and Dauntless had risen, but now he was a man, fully grown and righteously strong. No one would cross him, no one would challenge his will, no one would undermine his laws, simply out of fear for their strong leader.

“And of course, strong wolves take what they desire without the fear of recourse. Food, mates, resources, even slaves.” He let the word hang between them in the empty air, slavery was a delicate subject for most wolves but Tyranis saw no reason why the strong shouldn’t dominate if not own the weak. The question now was whether or not Hannibal would agree.

“Tell me, where do your strengths lie?” He asked boldly, his eyes all but glowing in the dim light of the moon, and the faint glow of the pool before them.