---
The night was restless.
The wolves should have been recovering from the Veilwood battle, but instead the camp seethed with unease. Shadows lingered where they shouldn’t, and the firelight felt too dim. Even the air was heavy, thick with the pull of something ancient.
Above them, the moon had begun its slow shift — faint veins of crimson threading through its silver face. A warning. The Blood Moon was coming.
---
Fractures in the Ranks
Kael called his inner circle and the allied Alphas into the command tent before dawn. The air inside was charged with tension, fur bristling, eyes flashing.
“They will strike when the Blood Moon is full,” Kael said, his tone iron. “We do not wait for them to come to us. We take the fight to them — before the sky burns red.”
Darrin of Ironfang slam
