The Whispering Valley had never seen a gathering of this magnitude. Usually, the mists acted as a shroud, a secret kept by the earth itself. Today, under my command, the mists parted like a silver curtain, revealing the obsidian-and-marble architecture of the Royal Palace to eyes that had not seen it in ninety years.
Standing on the high terrace, I looked down at the assembled power of the territories. To my left stood the High Council of Elders, the keepers of our ancient laws: Maeve Johnson, Tala Vilkas, Ylva Louve, Ashina Farkaha, Torvin Casteel, Bran Cornick, Remus Worgen, and Cayden Amarok. Their faces were carved from stone, their eyes tracking every movement in the courtyard with a hawk-like intensity that made my skin prickle.
The Gathering of the Thirteen
Thirteen Alphas stood
