Morning arrived slowly over the estate like pale gold poured gently across ancient stone, and the council hall filled with restless murmurs as wolves gathered beneath the tall vaulted ceiling where banners of old victories hung heavy in the quiet air like witnesses unwilling to forget the centuries of authority that had once belonged entirely to the elders seated at the long carved table.
Luca stood near the center of the chamber, his posture calm yet alert while the faint scar along his jaw caught the morning light and reminded everyone present that leadership in their world had always been written in blood long before laws were carved into tradition.
The elders arrived one by one.
Their movements were deliberate.
Their expressions guarded.
And the tension among them moved like an unseen current beneath the surface of the room, whispering that today's meeting would not resemble the quiet ceremonial discussions they had grown accustomed to controlling for decades.
