I ran through the dark corridors of the packhouse, heart pounding in my ears as if it wanted to break free of my ribcage. The torches outside cast long, wavering shadows on the ancient stone, and every step I took reverberated like a drumbeat of war. I wasn’t running to escape anymore—I was running toward the inevitable reckoning.
Behind me, the echo of clashing weapons and distant shouts rose in a cacophony of chaos. The warriors had been mobilized the moment my cell had been breached, and the corridors of the packhouse were soon filled with the sounds of a pitched battle. Yet none of that mattered. I had a single destination: the ceremony hall where the pack had gathered to seal my fate—and to crown a future built on betrayal and control.
My mind raced with every grim memory: the cold,
