The morning sun was hot slowly into the horizon, touching the edge of the rogue camp with a shy warmth that had long been missing. The valley stretched wide, mist clinging to the tall pines, and the sound of warriors sharpening their blades filled the air like a rhythm of survival.
Liora stirred in her small hut, her body sore, mind heavy from the night before. The soft scent of firewood clung to her skin, mingling with the faint trace of Dante's touch, a memory she wasn't sure how to feel about. She turned to find Elira already awake, staring at her with round, nervous eyes.
Before Liora could speak, the door curtain was pulled aside and a soldier's deep voice echoed.
"Alpha Dante requests your presence… both of you."
Elira froze. Liora's brows lifted. "At this hour?" she asked. The soldier nodded firmly and stepped aside. The morning had barely begun, but something about the way the camp buzzed told her the Alpha had made a decision overnight.
