I’m Not the Pack Mule Anymore

For five years I kept Grey Stone Pack alive—building their wards, surviving their sieges, eating their scraps. Then Alpha Elena handed me Jax's gnawed bones at the kill division and called it my share. So I walked. I ripped my custom parts from their boundary, took Blood Moon's offer, and watched Grey Stone collapse without me. When Elena came crawling to my workshop, knees on my floor, begging me to save the pack I'd built, I named my price in gold. A pack tells you what you're worth by what they hand you. I finally listened.