ELENA'S POV The iron-reinforced gates of the Obsidian Fortress groaned open, but this time, the sound didn't bring the dread of an impending siege. As our convoy rode through the massive stone archway, the blinding white snow of the high peaks gave way to the bustling, vibrant life of the courtyard. For the weeks I had spent here previously, the fortress had felt like a staging ground for war—a cold, utilitarian labyrinth of weapons, strategy maps, and tense warriors. Today, it felt entirely different. The air was filled with the smell of roasting meats and fresh bread from the communal kitchens. In the open plaza, a group of young pup wolves in their human forms were laughing, chasing each other around a massive central fountain, their high-pitched giggles echoing off the ancient stone walls. Nearby, a squad of adolescent wolves trained with wooden swords under the watchful eye of an elder warrior, their movements clumsy but full of pride. What caught my eye, however, was t
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