The grand hall of the newly claimed fortress echoed with voices,leaders of allied packs, emissaries from long-isolated clans, and survivors who had once hidden in the shadows. They were no longer gathering out of fear. They came to build something new.
Aria stood at the head of the stone dais, not with Kael at her side this time, but alone. A symbol. Her cloak was black and silver, her hair woven with strands of braided leather and wolf fangs,remnants of those lost in the rebellion. Her eyes scanned the sea of faces, but her mind echoed with the ghosts of those who had fallen along the way.
From deep in the room, someone murmured, "The Stormborn speaks."
She took a breath and stepped forward.
"No one crowned me," she began, voice low but firm. "No one handed me power. I did not rise because I was next in line. I rose because I had no choice. Because silence failed. Because hiding did not save us. I rose from the ashes because I had to become the fire."
