I carried my short sword and walked toward the Sovereign Grounds.
The stone path crumbled to dust behind me, and the whole mountain territory shook to its foundations. Every wolf within a mile radius felt it in their bones, a tremor that had nothing to do with the earth and everything to do with something old waking up.
Celestial-ranked soldiers rushed forward, blocking me outside the Gates of the Sovereign Grounds.
The one leading them was none other than my senior packmate from the Dawnveil Pack, Master's proudest wolf: Edwin Greymane.
He stared at me in surprise, brow furrowed. His scent hit me before his words did, that familiar damp parchment and tarnished copper, soured now with something I hadn't smelled on him before. Ambition, maybe. Or cowardice dressed up as pragmatism. "Lynara, if you've come to seek the Supreme Alpha's favor, you should keep your head down and your voice low."
"What's the point of making such a scene?"
I didn't bother looking at him. My eyes stayed fixed on the Gates. "Tell Fenris Voss to come out."
"Tell him an old friend has come to visit."
Edwin let out a weary sigh.
"Lynara, have you lost your mind?"