WHISPERS IN THE SHADOWS
The forest had begun its slow, uneven recovery. Trees that had been shattered by the shadow leader’s assault now sprouted tentative new growth, roots knitting themselves cautiously into the scorched earth. Wolves moved among the remnants of battle, muscles still tense, eyes alert, but their steps carried a careful rhythm—a rhythm born of survival and hard-earned vigilance.
Lykos stood at the crest of a ridge overlooking the clearing, silver aura glowing faintly, senses stretched across the forest like a living web. His wolf instincts were restless, alert to the faintest stir of movement, the subtlest distortion in essence. Even with the shadow leader shattered, something lingered—a presence so patient and cunning it avoided detection until now.
Aria hovered at hi
