Pack law was older than the mountains.
It lived in stone, in bone, in the way every Silverfang wolf stood straighter when the Alpha entered a room. It was not written in books. It was carved into memory, passed through scars and silence, enforced by fear and faith.
Mira learned that within the first hour of standing before the Silverfang council.
The hall was circular, cut deep into the mountain, with a ceiling so high it swallowed sound. Torches burned along the walls, their flames steady and cold. Symbols of the Moon were etched into the stone floor, each one marking a law, a promise, or a punishment.
Mira stood at the center.
Unchained—but not free.
Ryker stood beside her, one step forward, a clear message to his pack. Alpha first. Mate second. Enemy always.
The elders formed a h
