The gathering happened three nights after the Fire Prince left.
Reign stood on a flat section of cliff overlooking the camp, watching her wolves assemble below. Not just the forty who'd survived Kieran's army, but others who'd arrived since. Rogues who'd heard the stories. Outcasts seeking something worth fighting for.
Maybe sixty now. Still pathetically small compared to the forces gathering against them, but growing.
They knelt in the snow without being told. The gesture made her uncomfortable. She'd rejected one Alpha's authority. Didn't want to become what she'd fought against.
But looking at their faces, she understood. They needed this. Needed someone to believe in when the rest of the world had cast them aside.
An elder rogue stepped forward, his face marked by a scar that cros
