The night after the Council meeting was quiet.
Too quiet....
Elder Thorne walked alone beneath the moonlight, his cloak pulled tight against the cold. His boots crunched softly over the frost-covered path that led away from the Council Hall and toward the Elder Quarters.
He paused at the door to Dorian’s home.
The lights inside were off. The windows dark. No sign of movement.
Thorne glanced over his shoulder, checking the empty street, then pushed open the door.
It wasn’t locked.
Inside, the air was heavy and still—like no one had stepped foot in the house for days. Dust coated the floor. The fireplace was cold. A half-filled cup of tea sat on the table, untouched.
“Dorian?” he called out softly.
No answer.
He stepped deeper inside, his wolf stirring beneath his skin. Something w
