The rain had been falling for three days straight, a relentless, freezing downpour that turned the steep mountain paths leading to the Lycan Royal City into treacherous mudslides. But the weather was nothing compared to the storm raging inside my chest—or rather, the profound, unshakeable calm that had finally settled there.
I stood on the expansive stone balcony of my chambers, a heavy fur cloak draped over my shoulders to ward off the biting chill. Far below, at the base of the towering obsidian gates that guarded the city, knelt a solitary figure.
Caleb.
He had arrived yesterday at dawn, half-dead, his clothes torn to shreds and his skin caked in dried mud and the blood of the witches he had massacred. The proud, untouchable Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack was currently looking like a s
