DANIEL’S POV
The dream began gently.
I stood in the Nightfang courtyard, stone warm under my bare feet, banners shifting lazily in the breeze.
Everything looked normal—too normal. It felt staged, as if the world were holding its breath, waiting for something to go wrong.
But nothing looked wrong.
Warriors moved along the walls. Patrols rotated. The scent of food drifted from the kitchens. The moon was bright. The sky was clear—no clouds, no storm, no warning.
Then the gates shattered.
The sound cracked through the courtyard like thunder as wolves surged through in a wild, chaotic rush.
“Defensive formation!” someone shouted, but the command fractured before it could fully take hold.
Because the attackers were already on us.
I tried to move, to run, to do something, but my body felt heavy, as if I were pushing through something thick that dragged at my limbs and dulled everything around me.
“Daniel!”
