The nights in the West Tower were deathly silent.I sat on the rickety iron bed, listening to the north wind howl outside, a lonely echo of the storm that had shattered my life six months ago. Only this time, I held no more illusions.The small, barred window faced the estate wall, but through it, I could see the distant, warm glow of the main house. I knew Sebastian was in there, with his new family.And I was a ghost, forgotten in the cold.I reached for the back of my neck, where a small, silver mark was imprinted—the official seal of the Elder Council. Every pack member had one, a conduit to the pack's collective consciousness, a record of their identity, status, and permissions.Tonight, I was going to use it for something I should have done long ago.Closing my eyes, I sank my consciousness into the mark, feeling the thrum of the pack's ancient power. Soon, the Council's archive materialized in my mind—not a library, but a nexus of the pack's collective mind, an archive woven fro
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