Lincoln’s pov
Gamma Lincoln stood at the edge of the western watchtower, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he surveyed the distant forest. The evening breeze carried the scents of ash, pine, and tension—a trinity he had grown all too familiar with. The light of the setting sun burned gold along the treetops, but in his heart, there was only the grey of longing.
He could feel the pack's energy shifting. Every full moon, every patrol, every skirmish against the darkness weighing heavier with each passing week. The triplets, now nearing their first birthday, were powerful beacons of light and unity. Their presence made the palace and the people stronger. Yet it was hard to celebrate when shadows crept along the edges of their borders, and rogues grew bolder by the day.
Lincoln ran a
