Darrian's POV
----
The moon hung high above the clearing, its light casting a silvery glow over the assembled crowd. Torches lined the perimeter, flickering with a golden flame, while the air pulsed with energy—some anxious, some hopeful. The weight of what tonight meant settled across my shoulders like the mantle I was about to take.
Two packs. One future.
Heather stood at the center of the dais, framed by pillars of stone carved with the symbols of both Bloodmoon and Black Fang. Her long black hair had been braided with silver threads, and her eyes, though calm, held the edge of something deeper. Power. Grace. Resolve.
And now… surrender.
Not weakness. A choice.
I stood off to the side, surrounded by my pack, by Ronan, by wolves who had followed me through hell and back. Yet I co
