Under a spell

KELLY THOMPSON'S POV

The air in the grand hall was thick with tension, a tangible force that seemed to constrict around my chest with every breath I took. Alphas Draven and Carver stood before us, their stances rigid, their eyes reflecting the flickering torches that cast long shadows across the stone walls.

"Peace often requires sacrifice," Grayson's voice cut through the silence, steady and assured as he stepped forward. His broad shoulders were squared, his amber eyes scanning the crowd of werewolves and humans alike. "And sometimes, the greatest victories are won not on the battlefield, but at the negotiation table."

I watched him stroke his chin thoughtfully, a quiet gesture that belied his contemplative nature. "What if," he began, commanding the room's attention, "we embark on a joint effort to resolve this territorial dispute? A council of sorts, comprising members from both packs and human representatives, to oversee the use and protection of these lands?"