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Will didn’t stop there. His voice, sharp and cutting, filled the room, carrying an accusation that seemed to weigh on everyone present. My heart raced, my hands clammy as his words pressed on me like an invisible force. “The knowledge of Lycans and their ancestors was a gift granted by those who came before us,” he began, his tone heavy with disappointment and anger. “Yet it appears that gift was corrupted by lies, spread by the following individuals: Late King Walter and Princess Annalise. Step forward.” A hush fell over the room as two figures emerged. First, a man who looked like Weston but much older, with a stern demeanor that tried to mask his unease. Beside him was Annalise—the woman who had once claimed Will as her own. My chest tightened, and a surge of emotions rushed through m
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