The scent of smoke still clung to the air long after the fires had been extinguished.
Silvercrest’s great courtyard, once prepared to host dignitaries from neighboring territories, now bore the scars of panic and retreat. Stone pillars were blackened. Banners that had fluttered proudly hours before now hung in tatters, their edges burned and curling. Servants and warriors moved quietly through the ruins, clearing debris with solemn, weary motions. No one spoke loudly. No one laughed. Even the wind seemed to pass through the grounds with a hush, as though mindful of the humiliation that had settled over the pack.
The summit had ended not with unity, but with fear.
The rogue forces had vanished as quickly as they appeared, retreating into the forest like shadows at dawn. They had not stay
