The Blade’s Edge

The great hall was a cauldron of chaos, the air thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and betrayal. Wolves circled, some half-shifted, claws glinting in the torchlight, their growls a low hum of unrest. Grayson stood frozen, Zelda’s dagger pressed to his throat, a thin line of crimson welling where the blade kissed his skin. Her arm was steady, her breath hot against his ear, but her eyes were locked on Kael—scarred, naked, and radiating a primal fury that made even the elders flinch.

Kael’s smile was a predator’s, all teeth and menace. “You thought you buried me, brother,” he said, voice slicing through the din...