Chapter 16 - The Gathering Storm
Far to the south, beyond the jagged peaks where civilization faded into uncharted wilderness, a clandestine meeting was taking place in a ruined stone amphitheater.
A figure wrapped in dark, heavy furs stepped into the center of the ring. Around him stood dozens of rogue alphas—outcasts, exiles, and criminals who had been driven out by the surrounding packs over the years.
"The regional packs are cowards," the figure announced, his voice raspy and carrying the weight of ancient bitterness. "They went to test the new girl in Ashwood and came back crawling on their bellies like whipped pups. They say she has no wolf. They say she commands starlight."
A rough, angry murmur rose from the crowd of rogues.
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"Starlight doesn't bleed," the figure sneered, pulling back his hood to reveal a face covered in horrific burn scars and glowing, blood-red eyes—a corrupted alpha who had once ruled the southern wastes before being cast out by Victor Thornclaw years ago. "And a pack led by a ghost cannot stand against an army of the forgotten. We will march on Ashwood. We will burn their fortress to the ground, and we will take what is ours."
The rogues roared in approval, their beastly instincts flaring in the dark night. A war was coming, and unlike the minor squabbles of the past, this one threatened to tear the entire wolf world apart from its foundations.
