The dawn air in the Bloodwood territory was sharp enough to bite, carrying the crisp, metallic scent of frost and pine. The training grounds were entirely deserted, save for the rhythmic, violent sound of wood splintering.

Valeriana Cross stood perfectly still at the sevent

The heavy iron door of the North Tower did not just open; it exploded inward, the metal hinges shrieking in protest as they were violently tested against the stone frame.

Valeriana did not flinch. She sat at her mahogany desk, her posture perfectly straight, a quill poi

The heavy oak doors of the Bloodwood Pack’s war room swung open with a dramatic, echoing thud.

Valeriana Cross did not look up from the meticulously rolled parchment she was tying with a black leather cord. She stood at the far end of the great mahogany table, methodi