The air cracked with tension as two armies stood at a standoff, the forest trembling with the weight of destiny. The Bloodfang Pack, draped in black and crimson, faced the united front of Kael's Silvercrest warriors, backed by the remnants of packs who had suffered under Ronan's tyranny.
Ronan sat atop a black stallion, his dark armor gleaming, his eyes scanning the horizon with a predator's patience. He could see them Kael, standing tall like a king, and beside him, Aria, fierce and radiant, her silver blade catching the light of the rising sun. She was unrecognizable, no longer the trembling girl he once scorned, but a warrior forged in fire.
Ronan's lips curled. "So, the mute has found her voice. How poetic."
Kael stepped forward, his voice amplified by Alpha command. "Ronan of Bloodfang! Surrender, and your pack will be spared. Continue this madness, and you will answer to every soul you've tormented."
Laughter echoed from the other side.
