Killian
Dawn broke like a promise and a threat: grey light spilling over the courtyard, the torches guttering down to red embers as the pack gathered. I stood on the dais, the stones cold under my boots. The assembled wolves filled the square, a ripple of fur and muscle, faces taut with fear, anger, and expectation. They had come hungry for answers. They would get them.
Lyra stood at my side, quiet as always. Her presence steadied me in a way no speech ever could. She had fought. She had bled. She had not bent. Whatever their whispers had said, she was here… unbowed. For better or worse, she was mine, and I would not let the pack's panic dismantle what we had rebuilt.
Luca moved among the ranks, a shadow of discipline. Warriors in leather and mail took their places, not for show but bec
