Chloe
The sky over Crescent Hallow was a glorious blue.
But the air felt stiff.
Waiting and wanting.
Elijah stood at the top of the stone steps overlooking the courtyard, the wind tugging at his dark shirt, carrying the scent of gathered packs and barely restrained violence.
Below him, chained to the iron post at the center of the clearing, knelt Darius.
Broken.
Bleeding.
Still smiling.
Chloe stood at Elijah’s right, her chin lifted, silver eyes scanning the perimeter. Heath and Ayla flanked the lower steps with warriors from Red Willow and Silver Fang forming a solid wall of muscle and teeth.
Six packs had answered the summons.
Banners snapped in the wind.
And elevated above them all on the carved tribunal platform stood the Council, led by High Elder Varick.
“Elijah of Cresc
