Unknown
The storm hasn’t stopped for the past three days. It is quite fitting, really. Even the skies can’t seem to decide whether to rage or weep. It is like the world can’t choose how to break.
I stand at the tall window on the upper floor and watch the pack move beneath the rain. Small dark shapes slipping between puddles, their mouths lowered into collars. They speak in clusters, their voices muffled by wool and wind. Rumors travel fastest when the air already tastes of fear. And lately, everyone within the pack is already half-convinced the world is falling apart around them.
Rumors of a war with Midnight Valley were already floating around after Ronan was shot. That was the spark. So when the fights started between him and his Luna? Well, that was the kindling.
“He raised his v
