LOGINIrene's POVThe Pack grounds came into view just as the sun began to set.I stopped at the tree line. Hidden in shadow. The concealment cloak wrapped tight around me.Everything looked different.Guard towers that hadn't existed befo
Irene's POVI woke to find the old woman packing supplies into a worn leather bag.My heart jumped. "What are you doing?""Preparing for your departure." She didn't look up from her work. "Your ribs have healed. The burns are closed. Your strength has returned. There's no reason to keep you here any longer."
Irene's POVThe old woman moved like water.Fluid. Effortless. Despite her age and weathered appearance, she demonstrated the combat technique with a grace that took my breath away."You're telegraphing your strikes," she said, circling me in the small clearing outside the cave. "Your shoulders tense before you move. Any experienced fighter will see it coming."
Irene's POVThe days blurred together in the cave.Wake. Eat the bland porridge the old woman made. Drink bitter herbal tea. Sleep. Repeat.Slowly, painfully, my body knitted itself back together.The burns on my back stopped weeping
Irene's POVPain woke me.Sharp and insistent, radiating from my ribs with every shallow breath. My head throbbed. My limbs felt like lead.I tried to open my eyes. The light hurt. Everything hurt.Where was I?
Karson's POVThe war room smelled like blood and smoke.Maps covered every surface. Battle reports stacked in messy piles. Half-empty coffee cups scattered across tables. Nobody had slept properly in days."They're regrouping near the eastern ridge," Ken reported, pointing at the map. "Approximately sixty wolves. Mixed forces from Shadow Pack and Iron Claw."
Irene's POVThe stronghold rose from the mountainside like a scar that refused to heal.It wasn't the grand fortress Ken had described from the old days. That had been reduced to rubble years ago. This was something smaller. Rougher. A collection of stone buildings carved into the rock face, hidden
IRENE
Irene's POVThe Dark Hollows members treated us like royalty.Within hours of our arrival, they had prepared a private cottage near the main stronghold. It was modest compared to the Pack house back home, but every detail spoke of care. Fresh linens on the beds. Wildflowers arranged in clay vases.
IRENE







