The war had stretched thin the already-weary lands surrounding Moonhaven. Smoke rose like dark sigils from outposts once secure. The rogues, now emboldened by Celene's conjured darkness, pressed harder against the royal packs, surrounding villages, and scattered allies. The sky often hung heavy, no longer in the silvered beauty of the moon but in ash and dread.
The second year since the birth of the triplet Alphas had seen victory and loss balanced like a blade’s edge. Warriors returned bloodied, and some didn’t return at all. What had once been a proud realm shimmered under strain. Yet within the heart of the palace, a new kind of hope was forming.
Nova stood beside the council table, her presence regal and commanding even as exhaustion laced her limbs. The weight of her duties and her
