Rowan
The pack house had hosted war councils before, many of them over the years, but tonight the air felt different. The atmosphere in the great hall carried a weight that pressed down on every wolf present. It was watchful and tense in a way that told me everyone understood the stakes.
The great hall was lit by long iron chandeliers and the steady glow of the large fireplace that burned at the head of the room. The fire cast shifting shadows across the walls while wolves gathered around the long council table. Their voices remained low and controlled as they spoke quietly with one another.
No one laughed and no one relaxed.
The presence of rogues near our territory had a way of stripping the room of comfort.
I stood at the head of the table with my hands resting lightly against the
