GRACE
The forest still clung to me.
Even as I stepped through the portal and back into the pack house, I could feel its weight — the damp air, the whispers in the trees, the echo of Morwenna’s warning. My boots were still dusted with ash and magic, and my heart hadn’t stopped racing since she’d vanished into the dark.
I hadn’t slept.
I hadn’t spoken.
I just walked.
And when I reached the front steps, I saw him.
A messenger.
Tall, cloaked in silver and black, bearing the seal of the High Council. He stood like a statue, unreadable, his eyes fixed on the door as if waiting for me to appear.
I froze.
He bowed slightly. “Grace Preston. I have a message for you.”
He handed me a scroll, bound in crimson ribbon. My fingers trembled as I took it.
“An audience has been requested,” he sa
