The victory at the Silver Grove lingered like a fragile hope, fragile and fleeting. As Lyla and the others returned to the Blackwood camp, the forest seemed brighter, alive in a way it hadn’t been since the shadow first took root. Yet beneath the newfound vibrancy, an undercurrent of unease remained. The grove’s light had been a powerful blow to Kane, but Lyla knew the shadow wasn’t defeated.
It was regrouping.
Back at the camp, the pack gathered around the fire, their faces lit by its warm glow. The tension that had been brewing for weeks seemed to ease, but Lyla could still feel the weight of their unspoken fears.
Mason, of course, was the first to break the silence. “We might have driven Kane off, but he’s not gone. We can’t let our guard down.”
“No one’s letting their guard down,”
