The courtyard did not breathe.

Elaria stood rooted to the stone, every nerve in her body coiled like a bowstring. Her wolf prowled beneath her skin, restless, snarling, demanding blood. The air around her was dense with tension, wolves shoulder to shoulder, eyes burning, claws flexing against stone as though waiting for the signal to tear each other apart.

And then the words hung there, cutting through the night like a blade:

We will.

For a heartbeat, nothing followed. The declaration ...