CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The twilight sky is painted with streaks of pink and orange as we gather around the campfire, its flames stretching towards the darkening canvas above. Roman, standing tall and composed with his brown hair catching the last light of day, addresses the weary faces encircling him. His brown eyes, usually warm and inviting, hold a gravity that anchors us all to the moment.
"Friends," he begins, his voice carrying over the crackling fire, "your journey has been long and fraught with hardship." He pauses, allowing the weight of his words to settle among us. I watch as his gaze moves thoughtfully over the wolves from my old pack—their fur matted, their postures speaking of exhaustion and loss. "Stone Pack stands with you," Roman continues firmly. "As alpha, it's not just my
