They passed a law forbidding she-wolves from joining the battlefield so easily. The risk was too great—not just for the individuals involved, but for the future of their kind. It would also be hard if fated mates were to meet on opposite sides of a war. A wolf switching sides after recognizing their fated mate could turn the tide of battle, leading to further chaos.
Now, without she-wolves to protect them, male wolves had to defend their own weaknesses. And that meant, in every fight, their throats were vulnerable—ripe for the kill if they let their guard down for even a second.
Right now, Zion was itching for the kill. His irritation spiked with every passing second as he watched the brown wolf—it was clearly stalling, deliberately dragging out time, and Zion could feel his patience wearing thin.
