The hall was full.Wolves from across every territory had arrived and gathered shoulder to shoulder, pack alphas, Lunas, betas, warriors, elders. The youngest pups, cradled against their parents. The oldest of wolves, cloaked in age and wisdom, standing tall. Every eye watched the grand double doors at the far end of the chamber, the ones that hadn’t been opened for a coronation in over two decades.At the front of the hall, beneath the high ceremonial arch, stood those closest to the crown. Lysandra, resplendent in deep winter blue, her hand lightly resting atop Cedric’s arm. His expression was unreadable, though pride flickered in the corner of his eyes. Leo stood just behind them, his usual playful energy subdued under his formal black suit. Victoria, radiant and poised, wore royal colors across her shoulders, her chin tilted with practiced calm. And beside her, Calix, still and silent, his presence grounding like iron.They were the Winters. The bloodline once lost. Now restored.
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