Third-Person POV
The air in the great hall was thick with tension.
It pressed down like a storm waiting to break, heavy with mistrust and unspoken grudges.
The last of the werewolf factions had finally gathered, their leaders standing in a rough circle around the war table. The Silver Moon Pack, the Bloodfang Clan, the Crimson Howl, and what little remained of the Hollow Fang—all forced under one roof not by unity, but by desperation.
Torches lined the stone walls, their flickering flames casting sharp shadows over wary faces. The scent of unease tainted the air. Some of the wolves exchanged sharp glances, low growls rumbling in their chests, their instincts demanding dominance. Old rivalries burned beneath the surface, waiting for a single spark to set them ablaze.
At the head of the
