Lyra's POVBy the time the horns sound, the entire pack has gathered at the outer wall.Nobody ordered it. Nobody needed to. Word travels faster than any messenger when the ground itself is shaking, and by midday every wolf in Blackmoor territory — warriors, healers, children pulled from their lessons, Elders in their formal robes — stands crowded along the wall and the open field beyond it, waiting.I'm placed near the front. Not by choice. The Priestess appeared at my door an hour ago, wordless, and simply took my arm, and I didn't have the will to argue with the look on her face.Draven stands several feet to my left, flanked by his Betas, dressed in the dark ceremonial colors I haven't seen him wear since the night of my rejection. He hasn't spoken to me since the corridor this morning. I haven't tried to make him.The tremors have grown steady now — no longer isolated shudders, but a rhythm, patient and unhurried, each footfall closer than the last. Somewhere in the crowd, a chi
Last Updated : 2026-07-02 Read more