LOGINThe morning mist clung low to the forest floor, curling around the trunks of ancient trees like silent spectators. The clearing was alive with quiet energy, but it was different this time. The pack moved with careful precision, muscles taut, eyes scanning the edges of the forest. The scars of the previous battle still lingered splintered branches, flattened brush, and the faint echoes of growls and roars that had not yet faded from memory.
Selene stood at the edge of the clearing, silver threads flickering faintly at her fingertips. Her wolf hummed beneath her chest, alert, coiled, sensing the residual tension in the pack. They had survived a brutal clash with the Shadowfangs, Veyra who betrayed them and the Rogue King’s subordinates wolves driven by feral cunning and dark ambition. Many of the younger ones had witnessed the chaos and carnage firsthand, leaving fear and uncertainty in its wake.
Damien moved through the ranks, his presence steadying
Veyra’s eyes traced the movements of the pack through the narrow window of her old room. The familiar sight of the Shadowfangs moving in careful rhythm stirred something buried inside her a mixture of nostalgia and cunning awareness. She had grown among them, and while many still trusted her, the weight of suspicion hung in the air, subtle but unmistakable. Her bruises itched faintly beneath her clothes, reminders of the chaos that had dragged her away, but she held herself upright, graceful, composed with Every movement measuredSome of the wolves moved confidently, their loyalty unshaken, while the younger ones cast cautious glances in her direction, uncertainty clear in their posture. Veyra’s lips curved into the tiniest of smiles, the perfect mask of innocence. They thought they were being careful, watching her but she was watching them just as intently. Every twitch of an ear, every shift of stance, every flicker of curiosity fed into her calculations.
The morning after Veyra’s intrusion, the pack was restless. Wolves prowled the clearing, eyes flicking toward the restrained figure at the edge twitching with tension. The full moon’s glow had faded into the soft light of dawn, but its memory lingered in Selene’s senses like a faint pulse, reminding her of the power she carried and the danger it invited. Even now, after the chaos of the previous night, her wolf hummed beneath her skin, alert and coiled with caution.Selene walked among the pack, her presence calm but commanding. She observed the younger wolves as they moved about their duties, noting the subtle signs of unease. Some whispered among themselves, glancing at Veyra with suspicion and fear. Others avoided her altogether, instinctively wary of the intruder whose arrival had disrupted the sacred full-moon ceremony.Damien walked beside her, his dark eyes scanning the perimeter, ever vigilant. “They’re uncertain,” he murmure
The clearing was quieter now, the firepits casting long, flickering shadows over the pack as they tended to the aftermath of the previous night’s chaos. Veyra lay restrained, her body still battered and bruised, but her eyes burned with a mixture of pain and defiance. The younger wolves kept their distance, unsure how to act around someone who had disrupted the sacred full-moon ceremony, while the elders moved among the pack, observing, assessing, and whispering among themselves.Selene stood beside Damien, her gaze cautious as it flicked from Veyra to the surrounding pack members. Her wolf coiled beneath her skin, alert and protective, sensing the subtle tension that radiated from the wounded intruder. She was not jealous of Veyra’s presence; far from it. But she could feel the dangerous undercurrent of deceit, the sort of cunning that came with someone who had survived battles she could scarcely imagine. Selene’s instincts told her to be careful, to watch
The clearing had transformed into a breathtaking scene under the full moon. Lanterns swayed gently between trees, illuminating the ceremonial stage where Selene and Damien would soon seal their bond. The pack moved with synchronized purpose, their music, laughter, and chatter a lively backdrop to the anticipation that hung thick in the air. Selene’s heart thrummed in harmony with the drums, her wolf coiling beneath her skin in excitement, anticipation, and a touch of nerves. Everything felt perfect. Everything… until chaos intruded.A sudden commotion erupted at the edge of the clearing. Wolves froze mid-step, ears pricked, eyes darting toward the disturbance. A figure stumbled into the open, limping heavily, her robes torn and dirt-streaked, one arm awkwardly bent at an unnatural angle. Blood streaked across her skin and clothes, the scent of iron and dirt carrying through the crisp night air.Selene’s eyes widened as she recognized the intruder. &l
The clearing was alive with motion, a symphony of activity orchestrated under the pale glow of the full moon. Lanterns swayed from the trees, casting silver shadows that danced across the ground, mingling with the flickering light of the firepits. The pack moved like a well-oiled machine, older wolves supervising the younger ones as they carried platters, adjusted decorations, and rehearsed ceremonial gestures. Every movement reflected purpose, pride, and anticipation an unspoken acknowledgment that this night would be remembered for generations.Selene moved carefully among them, her senses heightened, her wolf coiled beneath her skin with excitement and restrained anticipation. The preparations were meticulous, almost obsessive in their precision, yet the energy was vibrant, joyous, and alive. Music filled the clearing, a complex layering of drums, flutes, and stringed instruments. The young wolves attempted to mimic the elders, spinning in spirals and stamping in rhythm, t
The full moon hung heavy in the sky, bathing the Shadowfang pack’s clearing in silver light, casting long, shimmering shadows across the gathering. Every member of the pack was alive with energy, their paws moving quickly across the clearing as they prepared for the mating ceremony. Months of hardship had brought them here, and now the pack was ready to celebrate not just Selene and Damien’s bond, but their resilience, unity, and survival.Tables had been set in careful rows, laden with foods that represented the pack’s strength and the forest’s bounty. Roasted meats, smoked fish, fresh fruits, honeyed pastries, and nuts were arranged with precision, the effort reflecting pride and excitement. Even the younger wolves, usually prone to chaos, moved in organized patterns, carrying platters, adjusting decorations, and weaving colorful fabrics between the sturdy oaks and pines surrounding the clearing. Every motion, every glance, reflected an







