Umbrathorn, the slithering son born of darkness, having received Vesper’s summon, arrived at FrostHowl with the break of dawn to report to his Mistress’ Master. The ominous castle loomed ahead, its jagged spikes stretching toward the sky like the claws of some ancient beast. He had received the summons with a sense of foreboding, an instinctual awareness that the urgency of his call was tied to Marris’ recent conflict of interest. Umbrathorn knew well the weight of Vesper’s wrath; he was an Alpha who valued loyalty above all and viewed any hint of betrayal as a personal affront. As he slithered through the cold corridors of the castle, he could almost feel the tension in the air, thick with the anticipation of an impending storm. The whispers of the spirits guided him, reminding him that V
