---
The stronghold’s great hall trembled with the weight of voices.
Wolves of every rank filled the chamber—Alphas from allied packs, their seconds, scouts still stinking of blood and snow. The air was thick with tension, a storm before the thunder, as murmurs turned to growls and growls into shouts.
Kael stood at the center of it all, a wall of silver fury, his presence commanding silence even when none was granted. His silver eyes burned, his jaw tight, his wolf pressing beneath his skin like a storm contained by chains.
The Hollow Court had crossed a line. They no longer whispered in shadows—they had stood at his gates, reached for his mate with hands of mist.
The wolves needed answers.
---
An older Alpha from the eastern mountains slammed his fist on the table. “You’ve seen what
