The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of war.

Lyla stood at the edge of the ruins, her eyes fixed on the dark horizon where her enemies waited.

She could feel them.

Packs gathering. Alphas planning. Elders whispering in fear.

She had forced them into action.

Now, they would try to stop her.

The Marked Ones moved like shadows, their presence silent yet powerful.

They had pledged themselves to her, and in return, she would lead them to victory.

Or to ...