Englewood, surrounded him. They wore heavy chains that gleamed under the industrial floodlights, their faces set in expressions of quiet intensity. Durk stood at the center, the Alpha, his eyes reflecting the harsh glow of the production monitors.

Lake Michigan horizon. The "wolves" dispersed into the morning fog, leaving Durk standing alone for a moment. He looked at the playback on the monitor , a satisfied smirk crossing his face. They hadn't just captured a song; they had captured the spirit of a pack that refused to be broken.

As the cameras began to roll, the director signaled for the pack to move in. Dozens of his closest associates, the "wolves" he grew up with in