The fortress had never been so quiet.
Even after the chaos—after Valec vanished and the enemy wolves retreated into the mists—there was no celebration. No cries of victory. Only whispers, and the sound of wind weaving through the shattered stones.
Because something had changed.
Not just in the Alpha.
In the land itself.
The trees no longer bent toward the fortress as they once had. The mist clung tighter to the borders. The river that ran through the cliff had begun to glow faintly beneath the surface—silver veins threading through it like living runes.
And in the center of it all… Draven Kaelith slept like a man between two worlds.
The Alpha Who Doesn’t Dream
He hadn’t woken in two days.
Not even to eat. Not even to speak her name.
Elaria sat by his side the entire time, fingers
