The council chamber was dim and cold. It was a room advising the Alpha on matters of war, conflict, and matters that seriously affected the pack. Garrett Thorn stood at the far end of the long oak table, staring up at the enormous map of Midnight Crest and the surrounding territories. Silver pins marked Midnight Crest’s borders, and red ones marked patrol clashes and skirmishes.
At the far northeastern edge of the map, almost at the very end of the paper, a single black pin rested like a permanent stain. It sat squarely at the point where Midnight Crest’s territory gave way to Iron Claw’s.
Garrett stared at the black mark, lost in thought about how far his plan had come. The day Lyra was taken away to her new life, he’d placed it there as part of the pack’s tradition of honoring signific
