Two Weeks Later — Obsidian Ridge
Obsidian Ridge had not seen this many wolves gather in centuries.
The land itself seemed to know it.
Basalt cliffs rose like the ribs of an ancient beast, black stone veined with silver mineral seams that caught the sun and fractured it into shards of light. The air hummed—thick with anticipation, old magic, and the restrained power of thousands who understood they were about to witness something that would be spoken of for generations.
This was not a children's ceremony.
This was proof.
The twins stood at the center of the ridge, bare to the waist, boots planted firmly in scorched earth. Reign on the left. Luca on the right. Identical in bone, different in presence—one radiating command like gravity, the other holding a quieter, sharper authority tha
