Even with the morning sun draping warm light across the courtyards, the Stormborn stronghold felt colder than usual. Inside the grand hall, tall windows displayed a scene of tranquil fields and rolling hills that promised peace. But the hush that enveloped Aria, Layla, and Ronan told a different tale.
The night’s disturbance had brought unease back into the hearts of even the most battle-hardened wolves. Strange sightings, rogue whispers, a cryptic messenger claiming that darkness had returned, none of it could be easily dismissed. And so, within the fortress’s thick walls, legends born of blood and moonlight threatened to wake.
Layla sat at the head of a long wooden table strewn with maps and letters. Time had touched her features gently, carving faint lines of wisdom around her golden
