Scarlett’s POV

I don’t gather them gently. There is no soft way to say this. No careful easing into truth that has been clawing at my ribs for days, humming under my skin, burning every time I breathe too deeply.

The prophecy won’t let me delay anymore. I feel it the moment they enter the chamber—the ancestral room carved deep beneath the pack hall, stone walls veined with faint silver light. The air tightens. The stone hums. It knows what I’m about to do.

Killian arrives first, as ...