In the afternoon Maara asked to speak about the three kings. They sat in the shade of the new storage hall, the air warm and resin-scented. Maara's voice stayed steady.
"I heard the stories when the first southern runners brought news of the north. Three brothers bound by the same curse, one woman with latent alpha blood who walked into their territory and did not break."
She stopped briefly. "Darius of the ice eyes, who held the center when the rest wanted to burn. Kane of the scarred hands, who counted every life and every blade. Rylan of the reckless grin, who laughed at the dark until the dark learned to step back. They say the woman, Elena, taught them that strength without mercy becomes another kind of curse. The packs still tell it that way."
