The Citadel shivered beneath the weight of winter winds, the frost curling along the ramparts like silver claws. Yet inside, the fires of determination burned hotter than any hearth. Aria and Damien stood at the highest tower, overlooking the sprawling lands of their pack, eyes scanning the horizon with the precision of predators. The betrayal had been exposed, the traitors secured—but the Council, cunning and ruthless, was far from defeated.
"The Council won't sit idle," Damien said, voice low and tense, golden eyes reflecting the frozen expanse beyond. His hand brushed Aria's, a grounding tether amid the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind. "They'll strike again. And this time… they'll strike harder, bolder."
