Chapter 8: The Ghost in the Shadows

The days bled into a monochrome routine of duty and silent investigation. The faint, desperate pull I had felt through the bond became my secret compass. It didn’t recur with clarity, but a persistent, nagging sense of direction settled in my bones—a pull towards the jagged, mist-shrouded peaks known as the Spine of the World, a neutral, treacherous land claimed by neither pack. It was a fool's hope, perhaps, but it was the only one I had. My newfound assertiveness in council chambers was...