{"The Lycan King must prevail"}
TOR'S POV
The wind carried the scent of ice and stone, a stark contrast to the thick pine and salt air of Bay Shifter land. I inhaled deeply, letting the cold settle in my lungs. This was it, the land of my ancestors. The place where my bloodline began. Ragar Mountain loomed before me, its jagged cliffs wrapped in mist, whispering secrets only the dead could hear.
"You hesitate." Rou pushed the words aloud.
I turned to Rou and his massive frame stood motionless beside me, the wind ruffling his thick, black fur. His golden eyes glowed in the fading light, unreadable, assessing. Rou had been my companion through the long, treacherous journey, silent, deadly, bound to me by fate or by something older.
"I'm not hesitating," I said, gripping the hilt of my blade. "I'm just... listening."
"The mountain does not whisper. It watches." He responded.