*River*
The dim light of the tavern flickers above me, casting shadows across the wooden table where I sit with Kellan and Aloria’s father, Edrin. The air is thick with the scent of ale and roasted meat, but my mind is elsewhere. We’re deep in conversation, plotting our next move to reclaim the throne for Aloria’s family, to restore her father as king, and to bring peace back to our fractured lands.
“Every day we wait, our enemies grow stronger,” I say, my voice a low rumble. “We need to strike before they know what’s coming.”
Kellan nods, his eyes sharp. “We have allies in the north. If we can rally them, we’ll have the numbers we need to take back what’s ours.”
Edrin leans forward, his brow furrowed. “And the lycan council? They won’t support a move without proof of strength. We need
