The council chamber inside the Almira castle was colder than expected. Despite the warm climate outside, the air within held a strange chill—as if something unseen slithered through the stone walls, unseen but felt.
The high-arched windows cast streaks of pale light across the long oak table, where twelve Alphas now sat, representing the twelve packs of Almira. Most bore the weight of age and status; others, the silent cunning of political survivors.
Heiko stood at the head of the table, flanked by River, his presence imposing, his gaze like a blade.
“Let’s cut through the nonsense,” Heiko said, his voice steady, sharp. “I didn’t travel across the kingdom to play courtly games. Tell me what’s going on here.”
Murmurs swept through the table like a ripple across still water.
One Alpha
