Caelan POV:
There are places a pack doesn’t advertise, not because they are secret, but because they are sacred. Some ground holds history quietly, and those who belong to it feel that weight without needing it explained.
I lead Elara beyond the outer patrol paths, past the stones worn smooth by centuries of wolves walking the same routes, until the land begins to change beneath our feet. The air feels older here, heavier, as though the earth remembers decisions made long before any council or border ever existed. Elara doesn’t ask where we’re going. She walks beside me in silence, trusting the direction even before she understands the destination.
At the crest of the hill, the standing stones rise from the earth, half swallowed by moss and time. They carry no carvings, no ownership mar
