로그인Thoros Myr’s POV ************************************************The war room filled fast, every senior wolf in the Bloodstone camp gathering around the map table within minutes of Garrick's warning.And I felt the old, familiar weight of leadership settle back onto my shoulders like armor I had never fully taken off, six years of careful preparation collapsing into a single, urgent night that I had known was coming and still was not fully ready for. The torches burned low, throwing long shadows across faces I had known my entire life, faces that trusted me to lead them through whatever came next."How many?" I asked, studying the scout's markings along the border, the ink still fresh where Garrick had marked troop positions, the numbers already worse than I had feared, worse than any scenario we had planned for."Three hundred, moving in formation toward the eastern ridge. This is not a small retrieval party anymore, Thoros. This is an invasion force.”Garrick's jaw was tight with
Thoros Myr's POV ************************************************I led her down to the archive room beneath the war hall, the one place in the entire camp where my father's collected evidence had been kept safe for over two decades, waiting for the day it could finally matter. Shelves of sealed letters and testimonies lit by nothing but a few flickering torches, dust thick in the air like the room itself had been holding its breath, waiting just as long as I had. My footsteps echoed against the stone floor, the only sound besides her quiet breathing beside me.She read in silence for over an hour, her hands trembling slightly as she moved from document to document, testimonies, sealed letters, the account of a dying elder who had witnessed the original coup firsthand, his shaking handwriting a record of a betrayal nobody outside these walls had ever been allowed to see. I watched her absorb every betrayal buried in that room, watched the girl who had walked in believing her
Thoros Myr’s POV ************************************************I had not planned on falling for her. I had not planned on any of this.Six years of preparation, six years of quiet alliances and careful lies, all building toward one single purpose, bringing the Crescent Moon Clan to its knees for what it did to my family. And then a red-haired girl with wide green eyes had walked into my life, terrified and heartbroken and utterly unaware of the war brewing beneath the surface of everything she had ever been taught to believe, and every careful plan I had built started cracking at the foundation, one unguarded moment at a time.The border horn was still ringing when I reached the war room, my second-in-command Garrick already waiting with a map spread across the table, torchlight flickering across markers and terrain lines that represented six years of careful, patient work."Small unit," Garrick reported, jaw tight, tapping a finger against the eastern ridge. "Six wolves,
Sylvia Fenris' POV ***********************************************I woke to unfamiliar warmth and the low murmur of voices I didn't recognize.For a moment, I thought I was still dreaming, a soft bed, sunlight through a window I had never seen, the smell of woodsmoke and pine instead of academy linen. Then pain registered, sharp and everywhere, my paws and my feet all bandaged, my whole body aching like I had been dragged through the entire forest, which, I realized slowly, was not far from the truth. Every muscle protested when I tried to move even slightly, small fires lighting up in my shoulders, my ribs and the soles of my feet."She is awake."I turned my head toward the voice and found a woman I did not know, older, with kind eyes and a healer's careful hands, sitting beside the bed, a basin of water and clean cloth on the table beside her. Behind her, stood two men I recognized instantly by the crest stitched into their collars, the crest my history classes had taught
Sylvia Fenris' POV************************************************I didn't tell my friends about the note. I burned it in the candle flame instead, watching the paper curl black at the edges and crumble to ash on my windowsill, and told myself it was a cruel prank. Some jealous classmate with too much time and too little conscience, nothing more. It was easier to believe that than to sit with the alternative, that someone with real resources and real intent wanted me gone from this school, and maybe from this world entirely. I went about my days like nothing had changed, forcing smiles at breakfast, forcing my hands steady during training, pretending the note was just paper and ash and nothing more.I almost believed that too, until three nights later.I was walking back from the training barn after a late session with Coach Aldric later than usual, the sky already dark and starless, clouds pressing low over the academy grounds like a held breath.I felt it before I hear
Sylvia Fenris’ POV ************************************************************************************ I kept out of his way for a week, tried never to have anything to do with him even though a part of me still desired him. It was not as easy as I expected. He seemed to be avoiding me as well, we would appear at the edges of classrooms, and never quite look me in the eye, like he was giving me room to hate him properly. Part of me was thankful for the distance because it will help in quenching whatever burning desires I once had for him, but another part, more stubborn and less sizable, kept scanning the crowded hallways for a glimpse of dark hair and stormy eyes, and each time I caught myself doing it, I hated myself a little more. So, I trained instead, harder than ever, forcing my body until my muscles cried out and my wolf was finally responding to my call without question. Coach Aldric told me I was improving faster than anyone he had taught in a decade, and I clung







