A tense hush fell over the Stormborn courtyard as Ronan assembled a handpicked strike team. The Crimson Eclipse was mere hours away from reaching its lethal zenith, and the realm’s fate teetered on a razor’s edge. Wolves of every size and creed hurried about, snatching whispered instructions and readying weapons, while Layla’s grief still hovered in the corridors like a ghost.
At the center of the courtyard, Ronan turned to face the small group he’d summoned. They were a mix of seasoned Stormborn warriors, skilled trackers from allied packs, and a few grim-faced Alphas who had sworn fealty just hours earlier. Many bore fresh wounds or scars from recent battles with the rogues.
His posture was rigid, voice cutting through the uncertainty in the air. “We have reason to believe the rogue me
