The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the forest as the sound of our footsteps crunched softly on the leaf-strewn path. The air was thick with tension, an unspoken unease lingering among our group. Marcus and Caius walked ahead, their figures outlined by the pale light, while Carter and I kept pace behind them, our silence heavy but charged with unspoken words. The journey to the territory of the weretigers was a necessary risk, one that promised either a powerful alliance or the spark of greater conflict.
Morrigan was restless, pacing at the edge of my consciousness, her keen instincts tuned to the slightest change in the air. She didn’t trust the weretigers, and to be honest, neither did I. The memories of past encounters between our kinds, marked by bloody skirmishes
