Dawn arrived like a knife slicing through the Citadel, cold and sharp. Aria was already awake, standing at the edge of the main battlements, eyes scanning the horizon. The land hummed beneath her feet, restless, as if impatient for what was coming.
Damien appeared silently behind her, coat brushing the stone. "They'll strike first light," he said. Voice calm, but the tension underlying it was undeniable.
She didn't turn. "I know."
He rested a hand on her shoulder, warm and grounding. "You won't be alone."
"I never am," she replied, though her chest tightened. The pull of responsibility weighed heavier now than the thrill of power. She had to protect more than herself. More than Damien. Every pack, every rogue, every wolf who had dared to hope.
The first attack came faster than expected.
