Luca POV
Night settled over the Summit grounds like a held breath.
The roar of the arena was gone, washed away by distance and time, leaving only the soft chirp of crickets and the distant hum of celebration drifting from the main hall. Torches burned low along the private garden path where the kings had agreed their sons could meet—away from politics, spectators, and the wolves still hungry for blood.
Luca stood beneath an old stone archway, its cool surface pressing into his back. His body ached in quiet protest. Bruises bloomed under his skin. His ribs still throbbed where Raven had struck him—hard enough to remind him that power came in more forms than brute force.
His wolf paced beneath his skin, restless but alert.
He didn’t know why Raven had asked for this meeting. A week ago,
