War does not ask for permission.
It takes.
Red Hollow stands like a scar against the horizon.
A fortress carved into stone and forest, its walls reinforced with claw, bone, and blood. It guards the western routes—supply lines, safe passage, survival itself.
If it falls…
Everything behind it follows.
“They’re gathering faster than expected,” Kael says, standing at the ridge overlooking the valley below.
Dark shapes move across the terrain.
Not dozens.
Not hundreds.
Thousands.
Aria steps forward, the wind pulling at her as if the world itself recognizes what’s about to happen.
Her silver wolf rises—not in fear… but in readiness.
“Then we don’t wait,” she says.
A pause.
“We end it here.”
The stronghold comes alive.
Wolves move with urgency—positions taken, defenses raised, we
