AUTHOR’S POV
The night air at Crimson Fang’s border was unnaturally still, the kind of silence that pressed close against the skin like a suffocating shroud. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, as though the forest itself understood what was about to unfold. Jovani stood at the front lines, his frame rigid, every muscle coiled with tension. Behind him, his warriors lined the border like a wall of flesh and bone, shoulders squared, eyes fixed, their hands hovering near the hilts of their weapons.
The forest loomed around them, alive in its stillness. The trees arched overhead like ancient sentinels, their branches skeletal and brittle under the pale wash of moonlight. The shadows between them shifted in restless silence, stretching and curling with each faint stir of the leaves. Ever
