The Moonrise pack arena wasn’t just a place for training—it was the beating heart of the pack. Carved into the natural hollow between towering oaks, its dirt floor was worn and compacted by countless footfalls, sweat, and bloodshed. The rough-hewn timber fences rose high around the perimeter, forming an unyielding circle. The benches, scarred by years of eager spectators, climbed the gentle slope of the surrounding hillside. Today, with the sharp scent of the coming snow in the air, it felt less like an arena and more like a coliseum, ready for a spectacle—a judgment.
The overcast sky cast the scene in a muted, sombre light, but the chill in the air wasn’t from the weather. It buzzed with unspoken fury, simmering dissent that had been building ever since the council meeting. Aria’s pregna
