Alexander’s pov
The room was thick with tension, a quiet storm brewing beneath the steady crackle of the fire in my father’s chamber. We stood there, my brothers and I, side by side, our backs straight, hearts pounding. The Oracle, old and mysterious, loomed before us, his dark robes sweeping the floor, his silver hair-like strands of mist flowing from a high crown. His eyes, deep and piercing, glinted with an otherworldly wisdom that always left us uneasy. He was the voice of the Moon Goddess, or so my father said, but every visit from him was a prelude to something dark.
He rarely came to our pack, and when he did, we braced ourselves. My brothers, Xavier, Christopher, and I had grown to dislike him, not out of mere disrespect but because he never seemed to bear any good news. We share
