Morning did not come gently to Regina, for though the sun rose beyond the forest line with pale gold light stretching across the land, there lingered beneath that brightness a tension that had settled into the bones of every wolf, as though the night had left behind a warning none could ignore.
Two lines of quiet unrest followed.
No one slept well.
No one truly rested.
Victor stood at the center of the training ground.
Three lines of disciplined focus shaped his stance.
Arms folded.
Eyes sharp.
Mind already calculating.
The wolves gathered slowly.
Five lines of low murmurs spread among them while glances passed, uneasy and uncertain, the memory of the duel still fresh, the interruption still sharper, and the way Elara had stepped forward echoing louder than any command ever given.
"She stopped it."
One voice muttered.
Another answered.
Two lines of disbelief followed.
"Without force."
"Without rank."
Victor exhaled slowly.
