The Blood Moon rose like an omen.

A deep crimson light bled across the sky, bathing the Silvercrest plains in its eerie glow. Every wolf in the valley felt it—the pull, the tension, the ancient hunger that stirred whenever power and destiny collided. The air crackled with electricity, heavy with the scent of steel, fur, and fear.

Evelyn stood at the front line, her cloak whipping violently in the wind. The red light glinted off her silver hair, turning her into something otherworldly—half ...