POV: Araya
Two years pass.
The Direwilds flourish under Araya's rule. Wolves who once fought each other now work together, building something stronger than any single pack could achieve alone.
Araya stands on the mountain overlook, surveying her territory. The sun rises over snow-covered peaks, painting the world in shades of gold and white.
Ronan approaches from behind, his footsteps familiar and comforting. His dark hair is streaked with more gray now, age showing in the lines around his eyes.
But his golden gaze remains fierce. His strength undiminished.
"You're up early," Ronan says. He wraps his arms around Araya from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder.
"Couldn't sleep," Araya admits. "Too much on my mind."
"The territory is secure," Ronan says. "Our people are fed. Our
