The meeting ground lay beneath an open sky. Ancient stone pillars formed a broken circle at the heart of the forest, carved with symbols older than empires—older than wolves remembered being wolves. The moon hung directly overhead, full and unblinking, bathing the clearing in cold silver light. This was not mafia territory. This was pack land.
Calla felt it the moment she stepped into the circle. The ground hummed beneath her bare feet. The air pressed against her skin like a held breath. Every instinct inside her stood awake, alert, answering something ancient and unavoidable.
Around the perimeter, shadows shifted.
Wolves.
Dozens of them.
Some fully human. Some half-shifted. Some already wearing the beast openly, eyes glowing, muscles coiled.
And at the center—
The Moonbound Regent
