Neil
“Rogues do not move in formal packs like this,” Edrick was saying as he paced the meeting chamber. “This level of coordination—it is not normal for them. Someone is pulling the strings from behind the scenes. I am sure of it.”
Caleb let out a derisive snort from where he lounged across from me, his feet kicked up on the edge of the table. “And who might that someone be? Don’t tell me there’s a… rogue king now.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“Werewolves,” Edrick snapped, slamming his palm flat against the table. The sound echoed in the chamber. “It is not a theory anymore. My scouts and I have confirmed it.”
The tension in the room shifted. Even I moved a little in my chair, my jaw tightening.
The idea of Werewolves organizing an attack wasn’t a new concept in the s
