, the inevitable shift that would soon claim him. He moved through the dense undergrowth in his wolf form, a silver shadow amongst t

s kin was strong here – the familiar musk of their Lycan nature, overlaid with the individual scents he had known since pup-hood. There was the steadfast scent of Bran, his father's most trusted advisor, a wolf who

scent of iron will and ruthless ambition, tinged with a subtle undercurrent of something colder, something Kae

od-pact, in particular, had been a source of deep unease. He had witnessed its cost firsthand – the subtle suppression of their instincts, the relianc

for the strength the pact provided, the security it offered against their enemies. Kael had countered with the loss of their true selves,

quickly overshadowed by the bitter taste of his banishment. He could hear the distant howls of hi

to the old ways, the ways before the blood-pact had tightened its grip. He had encountered some of them in his wanderings, silent acknowledgments p

human woman, so close to the Thornclaw borders, felt like a deliberate provocation, a sign that Lucien's control might be slipping, or that his ambitions had grown b

atural origins. They were not true Lycans, but something... else. Drawn to conflict and chaos, they were ofte

r straddling the line between two worlds. The silver feather he had seen near the human woman's dwelling flashed in his memory. It w

in her fragile human hands. He needed to retrieve it, to ensure she hadn't made any connection. The though

the spark of something that had flickered beneath the surface. He had saved her life. Was

m the shadows, a silent guardian keeping watch over the fragile human who had stumbled into his world. The whispers of his former pack faded into the background, replaced by a new, unsettling awareness of the human who now held a piece of his secret, a