Desmond's bedroom chamber was dimly lit, the golden hues of the setting sun filtering in through the large stained-glass windows, casting eerie shapes on the cold stone floor. Each color danced across the ancient walls like fractured memories—fleeting, beautiful, and haunting. Inside, Seraphina stood tall, her posture regal and sharp as a blade, her cloak draped over her shoulders. The air around her vibrated with a restrained fury, and though her face was composed, her eyes showed the storm beneath.The room felt colder than usual, though it could have just been her mood. Her mind was tangled with thoughts, her heart conflicted with the weight of leadership and personal vendettas. The Blackwood Pack had known peace, once—but that peace had been built on shaky trust and the illusion of strength. Now, the cracks were showing, and they were splitting wider with each passing day.Desmond leaned on the armchair he had found comfortable despite the heat in his stomach, his fingers ta
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