Names have power.
Every wolf knows it. Our names are stories carved into our bones before we learn how to speak them. They tell the world who we are, and sometimes they tell the world who we are supposed to be.
For the first time since I arrived in this territory, my name did not feel like a warning.
It felt like a beginning.
Warriors moved across the courtyard, gathering supplies, tending wounds, marking territory in quiet, uncertain patterns. No one issued commands. No elders barked orders. The wolves moved because they wanted to, not because they were told to.
Instinct was no longer a chain.
It was choice.
Ronan stood near the boundary of the hall, talking with Kade and a few senior warriors. They spoke quietly, forming the beginning of something that did not yet have a shape. No
