The courtyard shook with each clash of fur and fang.
Arthur’s massive black wolf lunged again, fury burning in his crimson eyes, but Selra met him head-on, silver fire blazing along her coat. Their bodies collided in a thunderous crash that sent shockwaves through the stone floor. Dust burst into the air. Blood sprayed, dripping into the cracks like a sacrificial offering.
The pack’s howls echoed across the night, torn between loyalty and doubt. Wolves pressed against the walls, their bodies trembling with the force of their leaders’ rage. Some cried Arthur’s name in blind devotion, their voices raw with desperation, but others—hesitant, reverent—whispered Ivy’s name. The sound rippled like a secret carried on the wind.
Michael strained against the iron shackles, his wrists raw and blee
