KELLY THOMPSON'S POV
The scent of pine and cold earth still clung to my skin as I stepped across the threshold of the royal palace, the tangible proof of my relentless search for allies. My muscles ached from the journey, but there was no time for rest-not with Alpha Biansky's North pack sharpening their claws for war. In the quiet of my chamber, I unfurled parchment, dipped a quill in ink, and penned an invitation that bore the weight of our survival.
"Elara Windrider," I wrote, my handwriting steady despite the turmoil within, "your presence is requested at the royal palace to discuss urgent matters concerning the imminent threat posed by the rival North pack." The words were formal, yet beneath them lay a silent plea for understanding-for unity against our common enemy.
Seali
