Athena

The first light of dawn was just beginning to touch the edges of the forest as I stood on the high ridge overlooking the Grayhound territory. Mist curled through the trees like ghostly fingers, and every sound—the whisper of leaves, the distant call of a bird—felt amplified, heightened by the anticipation coiling tight in my chest. Today would not be like any day before. Today, Gian would make his move. I could feel it in the air, in the tension that vibrated through the pack, in ...