The first sunrise after the duel painted the valley in soft amber, washing away the smoke and dust of battle. For the first time in many nights, the pack lands were quiet—no training shouts, no whispered wagers about who would rule. Only birdsong and the distant rush of the river broke the silence.

Inside the great hall, garlands of silver leaves hung from the beams, their faint shimmer catching the morning light. The pack had gathered once more, this time not for combat but for ...