Then
Maelis had not been chosen because she was strong.
She knew that now.
She stood at the edge of the Hollowring, moonlight spilling through the broken canopy above, illuminating the circle of elders and wolves who refused to meet her eyes. The air smelled of damp earth and old magic—magic that did not belong to her pack, but had been invited in anyway.
That should have been the first warning.
Her pack, the Rimefall Wolves, were not powerful. They were not ancient. They survived by aligning—offering fealty, resources, access—to forces larger than themselves.
It was how they’d lasted this long.
The Alpha cleared his throat. “You understand what is being asked of you.”
Maelis did not nod.
She had learned long ago that agreement given too easily was taken for granted.
“You will go
