Three days passed since the fall of Eldwyne Fortress.
And still, Vaelrik hadn’t returned.
Not to the Shadow King.
Not to Ivy.
He had disappeared into smoke and silence, leaving whispers behind.
Whispers that Ivy Flameborn had done the impossible:
She spared a general. She led an army. She burned, but did not break.
In the academy’s great hall, the council gathered again.
This time, not to debate Ivy’s bloodline.
But to beg her leadership.
Elder Malric cleared his throat. “The outlying packs want allegiance. They say if the flameborn leads, they’ll kneel.”
Ivy blinked, stunned. “I never asked to be Queen of anything.”
“You don’t have to,” said Liora, stepping into the chamber. “They’ve already chosen you.”
Jax grinned from the corner. “Guess that makes me a royal pain-in-the-as
