Heather's POV
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There’s something eerie about peace after war.
It’s too quiet. Too still. The kind of silence that settles in your bones like snowfall—cold, slow, deceptive. The kind of quiet that makes wolves nervous, because we know it never lasts.
I stood on the high balcony of the central fortress, overlooking the training grounds. Black Fang soldiers moved through drills with practiced discipline, while Bloodmoon wolves worked beside them, side by side like they'd always been part of the same unit. Weeks ago, that sight would've felt like a dream.
Now, it felt like something fragile. Something earned. Something that could shatter if the wrong pressure was applied.
And that pressure had arrived in the form of an Alpha draped in black, with eyes like frost and a voic
