The Heart of the Pack
The air inside the ancient caves was a stark contrast to the crisp, cool dawn outside. It was thick with the mingled scents of damp earth, faint, purifying magic, and the undeniable, heartbreaking aroma of sickness that clung to the Shadowmoon Pack. A low, continuous moan echoed from deeper within the cavern, the sound of suffering that pierced Kieran’s heart. He supported Lyra, his own body aching, but his gaze was fixed on the sight before them.
They found the pack huddled in small, desperate groups around the Obsidian Heart, its gentle pulse of light barely cutting through the gloom. The initial healing ritual, started by Derek and the elders before Kieran's departure, had clearly bought them precious time. It had stemmed the immediate tide of death, but it hadn'
