Genevieve's POV
Two long, agonizing days had passed since we stood in that small, candlelit hut deep in the forest.
Since my oldest friend let the ancient spirits speak through her lips and delivered that terrifying prophecy.
Two days had passed since the burden of hunting down a hidden female Alpha had settled over my shoulders like a suffocating shroud.
Rhydor had wasted no time once we returned to the territory. He issued an immediate, unyielding decree to every corner of the pack land.
Every single female werewolf aged eighteen and above was ordered to gather at the main training grounds.
They came in vast waves, leaving their homes, farms, and shops behind. Now, hundreds of women stood clustered across the wide dirt field, whispering among themselves in nervous murmurs.
They were confused, hoping to be of help, but deeply fearful of the dark cloud hanging over our pack.
Near the center of the grounds, five senior pack elders stood in a strict, stoic line.
