KAEL
No one spoke.
Not even Zeys.
The entire sanctuary had gone unnaturally still after the seer uttered those four words.
The Prophecy of the Lycan King.
The orange moon washed over every face in the clearing, making us all look like ghosts standing before a grave.
The old woman rested both hands on the top of her staff, studying each of us with eyes that looked far older than time itself.
“When the Moon Goddess first revealed the prophecy,” she began, her voice calm enough to command absolute silence, “the supernatural world trembled. Kings abandoned wars. Packs gathered their greatest scholars. Entire bloodlines began documenting every unusual birth because they believed the arrival of the Lycan King was near, but it never came.”
“What happened?” One of the officials asked.
“N
