Chapter seventy five

75

The wind howled like a wounded beast, carrying with it the icy breath of the approaching storm. Inside the cavern, a world apart from the tempestuous exterior, a council of white wolves convened. Their eyes, as luminous as the moonlit snow, held a shared intensity that belied their silent forms.

I stood at the heart of their circle. My pelt, once pristine, was now marked by the scars of countless battles. Yet, in these weathered lines resided a wisdom that commanded respect. My voice, low and resonant, cut through the still air.

"Three days," I began, my gaze sweeping across the expectant faces, "Three days until we strike. A swift, decisive blow that will echo through these frozen lands."

A ripple of excitement passed through the pack. Their bodies tensed, a silent promise of unwavering loyalty. I sensed their eagerness, their thirst for vengeance. But I also knew the importance of meticulous planning.