The council hall was dim, lit only by the pale torches flickering on either side of the long table. Shadows danced across the old wooden walls, and the weight of the pack elders’ voices filled the room.
“They’ve started again,” Elder Luke said, his voice sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. His hands shook slightly, though whether from fear or anger, no one could tell. “The dreams. His face, his voice. Leo.”
Murmurs rippled around the table. Some nodded in agreement. Others shifted uneasily in their seats.
Elder Simone leaned forward, her gray eyes stern, her lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s not just you anymore, Luke. Last night I had the same dream. He stood over me, fire in his eyes, whispering words that froze my bones. He is tormenting us in our sleep.”
“Whispers,”
