Devon POV
The council chamber stood before me, carved into the earth like it had always been there, older than memory, older than myth.
Built into the roots of a crescent-shaped hill, the chamber wasn’t just a room; it was a living thing. Thick beams of ancient wood stretched high into the arching ceiling, polished smooth by time and touch. Moss grew freely along the stones that made up the base, braided with ivy and runes that glowed faintly under the light of the moon. No metal. No plastic. No glass. Only the elements wood, stone, and spirit.
The crescent insignia of the Woodland Pack was etched into the floor at the centre, and above it, an open skylight let the full moon spill directly into the chamber, bathing the stone in silver.
It wasn’t cold.
It was sacred.
The chamber was s
