The banners of Silver Dawn snapped in the wind.
Elara stood atop the battlements of Wolfspire Keep, her cloak billowing behind her, watching the army gather below. What began as a scattered band of defectors had swelled into a tide—wolves of every rank, cast aside by the old regime, now moving as one.
A new pack.
A new order.
Arden approached, dusty from the field. “Twelve more caravans arrived overnight. Omega militias from the southern valleys. And House Aerin pledged weapons, food, and archers."
Elara nodded. “And the capital?"
“They're silent. But spies report movement. Valen mercenaries. Alchemist regiments. Poison reserves."
She looked out over the troops. “They're not preparing for negotiation."
“No," Arden said. “They're preparing for siege."
A pause.
“Should we strike fi
