Kael stood on the balcony of the Alpha's hall, overlooking the land that now flourished under his leadership. From here, he could see the vast expanse of the Blackmoon Pack—the stronghold that had once been scarred by war but now stood firm.
Yet something gnawed at the edges of his mind, a nagging sensation that something wasn't right.
The murmurs had grown louder. Wolves that once stood in unity now gathered in quiet groups, speaking in hushed tones. The elders, usually steadfast in their loyalty, now carried an air of hesitation.
Kael clenched his jaw.
His instincts screamed that a storm was coming.
"Something is wrong," he muttered under his breath.
A presence stirred behind him, and before he could turn, warm arms wrapped around his waist. Lyra pressed her forehead against his back, seeking comfort in his presence.
"You feel it too, don't you?" she murmured.
