In the modest chamber Edwin had specially created for her, Tiara sat alone, trying to focus on the scroll in her hands. They were reports from the outer patrols, guard rotations, supply manifests. But the words blurred. Her heartbeat was so loud that she could hear it in her ears. Something was seriously wrong.Suddenly, the air in the room shifted, heavy and cold, as if unseen hands were pressing against her temples. Her vision darkened at the edges, followed by flashes. It was not a dream, not illusions, but prophecies. A battlefield drenched in ashes, not snow. Wolves, the Dark Moon wolves turning on each other amidst whispers, confusion, and broken oaths.A banner falling, Edwin's banner. At the center of this all was a figure, cloaked in the Ashbane pack uniform, standing over a fallen elder, with a smirk carved into his face. And Tiara herself... standing in the midst of it all, holding no blade, but carrying the weight of a choice that would either save or perish them all.He
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