The wind howled as we crossed into no man's land.
The trail got narrower and turned into a twisting cut between jagged rocks as trees gave place to stone.
The Ritual Grounds.
Centuries ago, the First Alpha had claimed his mate here—on a moonless night, with blood in his mouth and prophecy on his breath.
Now Kael and I were returning to that sacred place, hunted by the same legacy.
But we weren’t alone.
Behind us, our pack followed on foot. Armed. Ready. Eyes sharp.
The Council had summoned every dominant bloodline within reach. Kael insisted we walk rather than shift—it was a display of control. Of authority.
We moved as one.
But inside, I was unraveling.
The scroll still burned in my mind. The prophecy. The twins. One to rule, one to fall.
Kael strolled next to me with his hand
