The name *Fenris* felt like a mouthful of broken glass.
In the old world—the world of the Blood Moon Pack—he had been my sun and my shadow. He was the one who had shattered my dignity in front of a thousand wolves, the one who had looked at my "defect" and seen a waste of space. To hear his voice now, broadcast across a world he had no right to claim, felt like the ultimate cosmic joke.
"He's alive," Silas whispered, his voice dangerously low. His shadows were bristling, the violet ink of his power stained with the dark, jagged edges of his own jealousy and protective rage. "I felt him die in the simulation, Elara. I saw the Architect delete his sector."
"The Architects deleted the *version* of him they owned," I said, looking at the glowing red wolf symbol in the sky. "But Fenris wasn'
