Chapter 17. The Crown Forged in Silence

They heard the horn again at dusk.
Low. Ceremonial. Not the call of a wild hunt—but of a royal return.

Seraya stood at the gates of Hollowridge, wind tugging at the edges of her cloak. The stars hadn’t risen yet, but the air shimmered with anticipation. Every wolf in the camp stood still.
Waiting.

The horns didn’t come from her pack.
They came from the mountains.

Rael stepped beside her. “He’s not alone.”
“I know.”

She smelled it now—Alaric, yes. But something else layered over him. Something older. Sharper. Authority dressed in secrecy.

Then they appeared.
Alaric on horseback, black-cloaked, silver eyes unreadable. And behind him, a second rider.
A woman.

She was tall. Slender. Wrapped in bone-colored robes marked with runes. Her face was veiled, but her aura struck like a blade drawn in