The aftermath of the claiming ceremony had settled over the clans like a gentle fog, soothing, expectant, and fragile.
For the first time in decades, the Wolfes, Hayes, and Sinclairs were not at each other’s throats.
Across the territories, fires of rebellion flickered out.
The freed walked with their shoulders lighter. Magic felt balanced again. It wasn't perfect. Still, it gave everyone room to breathe. They could finally hope once more.
And in that uneasy calm, the Wolfe family made their move.
Victor Wolfe’s message arrived not with a messenger, but with a gilded glyph, delivered by air and marked in the old language of the pact. The glyph hovered outside the Hayes main house, glowing with a soft golden light until Alexander reached out and touched it. The glyph dimmed and drop
