The Shadow Alpha didn't return for three months.
In that time, Reign's fortress grew into something resembling a real city. Seven hundred wolves now called it home, with more arriving weekly. They built permanent structures, established farms in heated greenhouses, created trade routes with neutral territories.
The exile haven was becoming a power in its own right.
But Reign felt the clock ticking. Every morning she woke colder. Every night the direwolf's presence in her mind grew stronger. The ancient power was consuming her, piece by piece.
She hid it well. Only the Fire Prince seemed to notice.
"You're getting worse," he said one night, finding her on the walls.
"I'm managing."
"You're dying." He didn't soften it. "How long?"
"I don't know. Months, maybe." She flexed her fingers
