The stone floor of the North Tower was still stained with Valeriana Cross’s blood.

She sat in a high-backed wooden chair by the narrow window, her breathing shallow and measured. Beneath her simple linen tunic, ninety-nine severing runes burned into her flesh with

The night of the Blood Moon arrived with a heavy, oppressive atmosphere, the sky stained a deep, bruised crimson.

Inside the grand ballroom of the Bloodwood fortress, a thousand candles flickered in crystal chandeliers, casting a warm, golden glow over the polished

The silence in the grand ballroom was absolute, save for the whisper of parchment fluttering to the polished marble floor. Dozens of allied Alphas, pack elders, and elite guards stared at the scattered documents as if they were venomous snakes.

Valeriana stood at