Preparing the Wolves
The training grounds were alive with movement as Crimson Fang’s warriors honed their skills. Swords clashed, and growls filled the air as wolves sparred with one another, their ferocity reflecting the weight of the battle to come.
Draven stood at the center of it all, his commanding presence undeniable. His amber eyes burned with determination as he barked orders. “Form tighter ranks! Malrik’s forces fight like chaos, and we counter it with precision. Every wolf here is fighting for their family. We don’t give an inch to him!”
The warriors roared their agreement, their confidence bolstered by their Alpha’s strength.
Isla stood at the edge of the training grounds, her twins bundled in her arms. She watched Draven lead with pride and a hint of longing—he was everything the pack needed, their unshakable anchor. Yet her thoughts drifted to the looming battle and the fragile future hanging by a thread.
Her father approached, his footsteps soft but deliberate. He stopped beside her, his golden eyes scanning the warriors. “They’re lucky to have you and Draven,” he said quietly. “Your bond inspires loyalty. It’s what will carry this pack through the storm.”
Isla glanced at him, her silver eyes searching his face for cracks in his façade. “I hope you’re right,” she said, her voice heavy with doubt.
Kaelen turned to face her fully, his gaze steady. “I am. You’re stronger than you think, Isla. Stronger than even you know.”
For a moment, his words seemed genuine, free of any shadow of manipulation. Isla nodded, letting his assurance wash over her, though the lingering mistrust in her heart refused to fade.
As their conversation drifted into silence, Kaelen stepped closer, and without warning, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Isla froze at the gesture, her thoughts tangled in confusion.
When she turned to look at him, her voice was soft but cold. “You don’t have to try so hard, Kaelen. This isn’t about winning me over.”
“It’s about what we stand to lose,” Kaelen said, his tone somber. “And what we’re willing to fight for.”
Isla watched as he walked away, her mind churning. The kiss, though brief, felt bitter—a reminder of the fractured trust between them and the looming final stand against Malrik. Turning her gaze back to the warriors, Isla clutched her twins tighter and whispered under her breath, “Please let this be enough.”
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