We emerged into chaos.
The sanctuary released us at the edge of the broken stone circle, moonlight washing over the ruins like a silent witness. The air was thick with smoke, fear, and the sharp metallic scent of blood.
Wolves were everywhere.
Not just Blackrock.
Not just Silverclaw.
Packs lined the ridgeline, spilling down into the valley in uneven waves—some in human form, some half-shifted, some fully wolf. Their eyes followed me with naked intensity.
Not awe.
Assessment.
Ronan’s hand stayed firmly in mine as we stepped forward. He didn’t pull me ahead. Didn’t hide me behind him.
He walked with me.
The Council stood at the center of the circle—or what remained of it. Their cloaks were torn, their composure fractured. Whatever they’d felt when the Devourer was denied had rattle
