The war council had gathered under the shrouded canopy of the Moonstone Grove. The air was tense with the scent of fire and urgency, every shadow heavy with anticipation. Rowan stood at the head of the clearing, eyes sweeping the warriors before him—wolves from Nightfall and Moonstone united in cause, if not in trust.

But Caleb stood apart.

He watched Rowan with unreadable eyes, standing beside Solene, whose face was drawn in grim contemplation. The spirit runes she carried glowed faintly ...