Elsie POV The Midnight Pack's manor rose from the frozen earth like a wound in the landscape, all black stone and sharp angles, its towers clawing at the grey sky. Elsie had grown up within these walls, had learned to walk on these cold floors, had learned to read in the dim light that filtered through the narrow windows. She knew every shadow, every secret, every whispered conversation that echoed through the corridors at night. The manor was not a place of warmth. It was not a home, not in the way other packs understood the word. It was a fortress. A sanctuary. A prison, depending on who was asking. Tonight, it was all three. Elsie sat at the vanity in her chambers, a heavy leather bound book open before her, its pages filled with cramped handwriting and dark diagrams. The text was ancient, written in a language that had died out centuries before her grandmother was born. She could read it fluently. Her mother had made sure of that. Zuri stood behind her, the silver handled b
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