Chapter 87- The New Era

The world smelled different after war.

Not of blood anymore… but of rain after fire. Of rebuilding. Of fragile hope clinging stubbornly to broken ground.

Nightshade stood scarred yet unbowed. Burnt walls were being rebuilt. Fallen towers rose again stone by stone. Wolves worked side by side—Nightshade, Frostfang, Silvermoon, Shadow Vale—packs that once could barely stand in the same room now moved in rhythm, sweat and dirt streaking their fur and skin, united ...