The council chamber fell into silence after Elira’s declaration.Outside, winter winds clawed at the high stone windows, but inside, the air was thicker than frost. Elira’s hand rested on the black shard of prophecy at the center of the war table, its faint glow casting eerie reflections on the polished wood.Lucien had not spoken since they returned from Hearthglen.He hadn’t spoken much to her at all.The attack had left a scar not only on the land, but on him.“I propose,” Elira said steadily, “the formation of a covert alliance—one that spans beyond our packs and borders. We need allies who understand magic, corruption, and ancient forces. Not just warriors. Seers. Healers. Guardians of the old ways.”Toren, the Ironclaw Alpha, scoffed. “You’re suggesting we unite with witches and forest spirits? What next? Summon the gods for tea?”Elira didn’t flinch. “We already invited them when I wore the crown.”Mara stepped forward, voice firm. “We’ve all seen what she faced. If we keep pre
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