Chapter 55

• The forest surrounding the werewolf territories was alive with the sounds of nature, but the journey back felt anything but peaceful. Amara sat atop her horse, her mind heavy with the events of the past few weeks. The alliances they had begun to forge were fragile, held together by little more than her promises and the looming threat of The Harbinger. As they approached the gates of Xander’s stronghold, she could feel the tension in the air like a tangible force.
• The pack members who greeted them looked wary, their eyes darting toward the artifact secured in Amara’s satchel. Whispers rippled through the gathered wolves, some murmuring words of support, others of doubt. It wasn’t long before Xander, Amara, and Asher were ushered into the war room, where several Alphas from neighboring packs had already gathered for the council meeting.
• Amara scanned the room, her gaze settling on Alpha Geralt, a towering man with a grizzled beard and piercing gray eyes. He stood near the head of the table, his arms crossed and his expression as unyielding as stone. Geralt had a reputation for being steadfastly traditional, and Amara knew that winning him over would be a challenge.