The council hall was built to endure storms of every kind: the ones that raged outside, tearing at the mountains, and the ones that swept through the hearts of wolves, where words were sharper than the biting wind. Its walls, thick with the marks of generations, had witnessed countless oaths, accusations, and decisions, each one leaving its mark. Tonight, the torches burned lower, their flames flickering uneasily in the tense silence that filled the room, as if the hall itself was waiting for the inevitable reckoning.
Aria sat at Xander’s right, wrapped in a shawl, still recovering from the collapse and the fever that followed. Every breath she took was a reminder of the life she carried and the sacrifice that being Luna required in a world that demanded everything. Her face was pale, but
