---
The stronghold smelled of ash and blood. Even as the wolves rebuilt the shattered gates, even as Kael’s command restored a fragile sense of order, the weight of the Hollow’s assault pressed down like a stormcloud.
They had come not for conquest.
Not for wolves.
For her.
---
Aria walked the camp with Mira at her side. Every eye followed her — some filled with awe, others with suspicion, but most with something sharper. Fear.
She caught fragments of whispers:
“She drew their shadow.”
“She faltered.”
“The Hollow called her theirs.”
Her chest tightened with every word. Kael’s cloak, heavy around her shoulders, felt more like a shield than warmth. But even it could not block the sting of her own guilt.
She had nearly gone to them.
The fire inside her still ached, restless, year
