The morning sun rose over the Veilwood Estate like a blessing.
For the first time in centuries, the black stone walls seemed to glow with warmth rather than menace. The guards stood a little taller, their eyes clearer. Even the servants moved with a lightness that hadn’t been seen in generations.
The curse was gone. The Lycan King was free.
But freedom came with a price.
Lucian Vane sat at the head of the long mahogany table in the grand council chamber. He wore a simple black tunic, no armor, no crown—yet the sheer weight of his presence still filled the room. Surrounding him were seven elders—the governing council of the Veilwood territory, all of them ancient wolves with silver-streaked hair and wary, calculating eyes.
Evelyn Blackwood stood by the window, her arms crossed, watchin
