The night before the final war felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Too still.
Ivy stood on the highest balcony of Blackwood Castle, the cold wind whipping her silver-black hair across her face. Below her, thousands of wolves prepared for battle. Fires burned across the valley like fallen stars.
Ten packs had answered her call.
Ten.
Yet something inside her chest twisted with unease.
Her wolf was restless.
Watching.
Waiting.
Behind her, footsteps approached.
Heavy. Familiar.
Alive.
Rowan.
He stepped onto the balcony slowly, his presence like heat against the cold night air. Since his resurrection, his power had changed. Darker. Sharper. As if death had carved something deeper inside him.
“You should be resting,” he said quietly.
Ivy didn’t turn.
“Tomorrow decides everything.”
Rowan mov
