Chapter 92 The Hollow King's Whisper
The storm rolled in before dawn—silent, unnatural. No thunder. No lightning. Just a blanket of clouds so black they swallowed the moonlight whole.
Aria stood at the edge of the ridge, her cloak snapping in the wind, her eyes on the distant horizon. Something was changing. The land was holding its breath, and the wolves—her wolves—sensed it too. A tension lingered in the air like the moment before a scream.
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