Conry

Deep in the misty depths of the ancient forest, where ordinary humans dare not venture, lies the territory of the Black Cliffs pack. Its leader is Conry, a young but undisputed Alpha. He is only 22 years old, yet his authority is unquestionable: a strong build, a predatory grace, and a golden gaze that sees through another's weakness.
From his father, Conry inherited not only his title and power, but also a rare quirk—a ghostly flame. In moments of strong emotion or while addressing, flashes of cold, sky-blue fire run through his dark fur and fingers. It doesn't burn, but it instills awe in both kin and foe alike.
That night began as a routine border patrol. But the soft crack of a twig and the faint, sweet scent of fear made Conry slow his pace. He emerged into a small, moonlit clearing and froze.
A boy hid in the shadow of the ancient trees. A weak albino omega: snow-white hair, transparent pink eyes, and a frail body trembling, either from the cold or from fear of the stately werewolf. Conry should have driven the stranger away or punished him for his intrusion... But instead of a roar, only a muffled, puzzled sigh escaped his chest.