I stood at the edge of the clearing, watching as wolves moved in tight circles, their conversations muted but urgent. I could sense their unease, the weight of Damian’s crumbling leadership pressing down on them like a storm cloud that refused to break.
The witches were still out there, their influence subtle but undeniable. Wolves were acting strange—more aggressive, more prone to suspicion. It was as if they had taken our already fragile state and twisted it, pushing us closer to the edge. And Elijah… Elijah hadn’t made his move yet, but I knew he was waiting. Watching.
He was always watching.
Gareth approached me from the other side of the clearing, his expression grim. "It’s getting worse," he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper over the wind. "Damian’s starting to question eve
