The northern wolves did not swear oaths.
They did not kneel.
But they did follow strength.
Caroline stood at the edge of the frozen cliffs, looking down at the army forming beneath her, their furs blending into the white snow, their weapons gleaming beneath the weak winter sun.
This was not the same war she had fought before.
This was not about Ezra, or Caelan, or the throne they had bled for.
This was about her.
And for the first time, Caroline wasn’t fighting for someone else’s war.
She was fighting for herself.
Ezra stood beside her, arms crossed, golden eyes glinting.
"Not bad," he murmured.
Caroline scoffed. "Could be bigger."
Ezra smirked. "That’s the Caroline I remember."
She ignored him.
Because there was no more time for games.
She turned toward Orion, who was sharp
