Dawn did not arrive without a fight.

It sliced the night with a dreary, ruthless light, tearing through the keep like a sword. The world was left bare and the mountains huddled under veils of mist after the storm had broken. Kaelith Keep did not wake—it braced.

Elaria felt it in every stone she walked across, in the weight of the air, in the silence of the pack as they gathered. No laughter echoed, no voices rose in casual greeting. Every wolf’s eyes were sharp, every breath held tight, ...