The remnants of the council's stronghold were scarily silent. The once-mighty fortress that looked intimidating was now nothing more than a slowly burnt ruin, holding the spirit of countless betrayals and hidden truths. The mighty building which was home to the most feared organization among the werewolves was now reduced to arches and ruins. The battle was over, but the war had not been won.
Aveline stood in what had once been the council's main chamber. Broken pillars pointed out like rugged bones, and the air still carried the harsh scent of burnt stone and blood. Gabriel moved beside her, his sharp eyes checking around the particles on the ground. Somewhere underneath the destruction were the remnants of secrets the council had guarded for generations.