Draven’s POV
It was four days until Christmas.
Four days to the coronation.
Four days before I knew my stance in the pack.
We were summoned outside in the den of the night.
I hated this. I was already preparing to go to bed.
The horn echoed through the icy night, cutting through the cold air like a blade. My pulse quickened as I stood in the cleared field. A fire was lit up, burning in the night, casting long shadows on the snow. Around me, I could feel the tension. Women had scurried out of bed. I bet everyone felt something was amiss in the house.
All eyes were on the elders.
Elder Alaric stepped forward, his voice steady and commanding. “The elders have arrived at a decision.”
My heart sunk at his words.
Have they decided to cut the challenges short?
Had Varin bribed his way
