WILLOW'S POV.
It had been one long, exhausting week since the incident with Dark Fang’s Beta. Things had been quiet—too quiet, as a matter of fact. Considering the pack’s reputation and their history with Obsidian Crescent, everyone expected they would have reacted by now—sent a threat, a warning, something. But nothing happened.
No visits, no messages, no scouts near the borders.
Nothing.
Everywhere was completely silent, and somehow that scared and worried people more than if Dark Fang had outright declared war. Because now no one knew what to make of their silence—no one knew what to prepare for.
But what bothered me the most wasn’t the incident that night.
It wasn’t the waiting.
It wasn’t the strange silence from Alpha Sylas and his bloodthirsty pack.
It was Atlas.
Atlas, who
