I stand on the edge of a wide plateau, the night sky above me pulsing red with embers. Below, wolves gather. Hundreds of them. Their eyes glow like coals in the dark. And in the center, elevated on a rise of stone, Thaddeus.
He’s different to when I’ve seen him in past visions. Gaunt. Haggard. Yet his presence burns brighter. Stronger.
Desperation can be a kind of power.
He raises his hand and silence falls. “This is not war,” he says, voice carrying unnaturally. “This is correction. Shadowmist has forgotten its place. Ryker has broken the order. I will restore it.”
The wolves howl in reply—some loyal, some bound by blood, others too afraid to defy him.
But not all.
Behind him, a figure shifts. Cloaked. Female.
She turns her head, and for a moment, her face flickers—between identities, between masks. A blur where there should be certainty.
I try to focus on her, tosee—but her presence resists me, slippery as oil. The vision fractures around her edges.
Then the sky splits.
A second figure descends from the cliffs—Ryker.
His eyes meet mine.
Not the vision’s me—me. The real me.
His voice rips through the dreamspace like thunder.“Kitara. Get out!”
Pain lances behind my eyes. My legs give out.
Reality rushes in, jagged and sharp, and I find myself crumpled in Ryker’s arms, shaking, cold sweat coating my skin.
“Kitara—fuck, what happened?”
I shake my head, battling to make sense of what I saw.
“I… I don’t now. Thaddeus is rallying his wolves. But there’s someone else, someone behind him. A woman. She’s cloaked, I couldn’t get a fix.”
Without a word, he rises, carrying me through our roomsto our bed. Gently, he lays me down, calling for a cup of water.
His profile is sharp, the scar across his eye catching the sun, casting a faint glow along its edge.
Lithia enters, handing me the cup.
“What happens if we refuse?” I ask her, handing back the empty vessel.
“He’ll claim we rejected peaceful resolution and use it to justify greater force against us. Perhaps sway neutral packs to his cause.” She shakes her head. “Politically, refusing makes us appear the aggressors despite the reality.”
“And if we accept?” I ask
“It’s almost certainly a trap,” Ryker replies. “But one we enter with eyes open, on our terms.”
Through our bond, I feel Ryker’s thoughts churning—weighing options, calculating risks, considering angles. His strategic mind, so different from mine and yet complementary to it, works through the scenarios.
“Bring the council,” he decides. “We’ll discuss this together.”
The council chamber fills quickly, all senior wolves responding to the urgent summons. Elias arrives with his hunting unit, including Zella who offers me a reassuring smile as she takes her place. Elder Lyra enters last, her silver-streaked hair gleaming in the torch light.
“A summit,” Levi says once Lithia has explained the situation. His tone drips with suspicion. “Conveniently timed.”
