The Apocalyptic Queen's Werewolf Journey (Thora and Darius) novel Chapter 133

**Shadows Hearts by Joseph King**
**Chapter 133: She Can Finally Fight**

From a distance, Luke’s grin widened, a spark of excitement igniting within him. It was a rare moment, one that made their hearts race with an adrenaline-fueled rhythm they had never before experienced.

Deep within, a flicker of belief began to awaken, a flame kindling in the depths of their souls.

The surge of newfound confidence was palpable, so much so that even the seasoned veterans momentarily froze, caught off guard by the audacity of these young recruits.

To the veterans, these were mere teenagers—barely stepping into adulthood—lacking any real experience in the chaos of battle.

But in this fleeting moment, the veterans sensed an invisible force, a bond forged as solid as steel, uniting these kids into an unbreakable front.

Tristan glanced down at his wrist, where the stone had left an angry, crimson mark. It wasn’t deep, but it stung, a reminder of the weight of the moment.

When his gaze shifted to Thora, it turned serious, a flicker of determination igniting in his eyes.

Thora’s sharp gaze swept over the four veterans standing before them, finally resting on Tristan.

With a hint of a smirk dancing on her lips, she spoke with an icy calmness. “Get to know me. I’m Thora Green, the direct commander of the Wolffang Unit—your only superior.”

The veterans exchanged glances, skepticism etched across their faces.

Tristan, not one to back down, tore off a piece of his sleeve with his teeth, swiftly wrapping it around his wrist to stem the sting.

He shot her a piercing look, his voice steady. “Tristan. Major General. Former commander of the N103 special operations unit.”

Thora remained unfazed, her tone cool and unwavering. “Here in the Wolffang Unit, you’re just another soldier.”

A cold, short laugh escaped him. “Wolffang Unit? I expected something impressive. Instead, I see a disorganized group—a collection of special recruits, either delusional or hopeless. No offense—”

His smile vanished, replaced by a steely glare. “I don’t take orders.”

And he wasn’t alone in that sentiment. The other veterans mirrored his defiance, their expressions revealing their shared disbelief.

Tristan was a member of the elite special forces, recognized by the Astralis Empire itself. His rank and combat prowess far surpassed those around him, and a sense of pride surged through his veins.

He was capable of following orders, but to report to someone with no combat history and to work alongside rookies? That felt like a slap in the face.

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