The war room fell into a silence so complete that the crackle of the hearth flames sounded like gunshots. Outside, the first true rays of sunrise pierced the blood-red sky—thin, fragile, but undeniable.
The revelation—that the Great War, the one that had scarred every pack, orphaned thousands, and painted vampires as eternal monsters—had begun with a desperate teenage lie—hung in the air like smoke after a wildfire.
Lilith broke it first, her voice barely above a whisper, Lirien unnaturally quiet in her mind, as if the wolf herself was reeling. “So… in the end, Valthor still took her? Kidnapped her? Forced the bond when she was terrified of him?”
Marcus and Torren exchanged another glance—this one heavier, older, laced with a grief that had fermented for decades.
Marcus rubbed a hand o
