The iron-toothed gates of the Crescent Stone pack border did not swing open for royalty; they ground against the gravel like a curse, spitting sparks of rust into the twilight air.
Selene stood between two towering enforcers, her wrists bound tight in silver-flecked rogue-cuffs. The metal didn’t just sit on her skin; it hummed with a low, agonizing vibration that traveled up her radius and ulna, straight into the marrow of her bones. It was a specialized alloy, forged specifically to torment a werewolf's biology.
The silver flecks acted like microscopic needles, injecting a constant stream of mild toxicity into her bloodstream, while the cold iron anchored her spirit to the physical dirt.
Inside her skull, the effect was devastating. Her inner wolf, once a proud, sleek creature that mi
