The night should have felt victorious.
Ten packs stood united beneath one sigil.
The ancient sovereign was no longer towering over them.
The Shadow King was sealed.
But the wind carried something wrong.
Cold.
Sharp.
Watching.
Ivy felt it first.
Not through the sigil.
Through the bond.
Rowan swayed beside her.
The adrenaline that had kept him upright was fading fast.
Blood soaked through his side where Gloria’s rune blade had pierced him. The wound was not healing like a normal wolf’s would.
The runes were still faintly glowing.
“I’m fine,” he muttered when she caught him.
He wasn’t.
His heartbeat was uneven.
The allied Alphas began giving orders, securing the wounded, reorganizing their warriors. The courtyard buzzed with controlled chaos.
Ivy knelt beside Rowan, pressin
