---- 20 The northern territory nights were bone-chillingly cold, with few pedestrians on the streets. In Damon's villa, the lights were dim, casting long shadows across the once-pristine living room. The air was thick with the smell of wolf liquor and something else-the sour scent of despair. Empty bottles littered the floor around him like fallen soldiers. Some were expensive whiskey, others cheap vodka. Damon no longer cared about quality, only quantity. He sat on the floor beside the sofa, his back against the wall, holding yet another bottle of whiskey. His usually perfect hair was disheveled, his expensive shirt wrinkled and stained. His eyes were empty, bloodshot, as if all life had been drained from him. He had been drowning his sorrows like this for an entire month. Thirty-one days, to be exact. He'd been counting, though he wasn't sure why. ---- This whole month, he went nowhere and did nothing. Pack meetings were canceled. Business deals fell through. Territory disputes went unresolved. All he did was drink and stare at his phone, hoping for a message that would never come. His Betas and Gammas took turns trying to persuade him, but their words bounced off him like rain on stone. His world seemed to contain only alcohol and the ghost of the woman who had already left. "Alpha," his Beta Marcus had pleaded just yesterday. "The pack needs you. We're losing territory to the eastern clans. Our allies are asking questions." Damon had simply lifted another bottle to his lips without looking up. "Fuck the allies," he'd mumbled. "Fuck the territory." Now, several pack members stood in the adjoining hallway, watching their Alpha's decadent state through the doorway. They spoke in hushed whispers, afraid to disturb him but unable to stay away. "What's wrong with the Alpha?" James, a young ---- Gamma, asked nervously. ''We've never seen him like this, even during major crises. Remember when the rogues attacked our southern border? He was calm as ice then." "This is different," replied Thomas, an older Beta who'd served under Damon's father. "I think it's because of that plan. He worked on it for five whole years, and now it's come to an abrupt halt. The psychological impact must be enormous." Marcus shook his head. "It's not that serious, is it? Damon has seen all kinds of storms over the years. Would one failed plan make him like this? I've seen him bounce back from worse defeats." "But those defeats never involved a woman," Thomas pointed out quietly. The group fell silent for a moment, considering this. "What exactly happened?" James pressed. "All I know is that Sage Rivers left and withdrew her mating application. But that was part of the plan, wasn't it? To use her?"