(Raiden POV)
My reflection in the glass shows a stranger—hollow eyes, tension etched into every line of my face.
The ceremonial challenge token weighs heavy in my palm, its black stone surface cool despite hours of being held.
I've made my decision.
The ancient laws still exist, buried in our oldest texts. The formal challenge is a duel between wolves to settle matters when words and politics fail. It has not been used in seventy years, not since my grandfather's time, but it is still valid and binding.
I’ve let him win before. I stood down.
I will not make the same mistake twice.
A knock interrupts my thoughts. “Enter,” I call, my voice rougher than intended.
Elder Santos steps inside, his weathered face grave in the morning light. His eyes fall to the
