Kane’s POV

The wind screams across the ancestral grounds, whipping through the jagged stones like a living thing. I stand at the edge of the plateau, every muscle coiled, every sense screaming. Smoke and ash drift across the horizon, and the sky above churns with unnatural light, torn between deep crimson and a sickly green.

I can hear it before I see it—the pulse of power, ancient and raw, far older than the Shadow King. My pack is behind me, weapons raised, eyes wide, but even they sense ...