Chapter 10
The rogue lands were nothing like Elira expected.
No towers. No temples. No warmth.
Just sharp rocks and smoke-stained skies, where dying trees clung to poisoned earth. Magic pulsed beneath the ground, uneven, unstable.
Kael walked ahead, his shoulders tense, every step wary. Elira could feel his instinct rising, his wolf pacing beneath his skin. He didn’t like being here. This was where alphas went when they’d lost everything.
Or when they no longer played by the rules.
They arrived at Bonehold by dusk.
An old iron stronghold half-buried in a cliff. Broken wolf statues guarded the gate. The air smelled of sweat, rust, and magic long forgotten.
Kael raised his voice.
“I seek an audience with Alpha Rovan.”
A pause.
Then a voice echoed back.
“Why should the fallen son
