Chapter 4 — Shadows of Ambition

Markus Hale

The room thrummed with quiet menace, the dim light from a smoldering hearth casting flickering shadows across the stone walls of Markus Hale's stronghold. The air felt heavy, thick with the scent of iron and smoke, and the faint crackle of the fire mirrored the tension radiating from the hulking figure at the room’s center. Markus stood motionless, his scarred hands clasped tightly behind his back, his dark leather coat sweeping the floor like a shroud. Before him, a map of the fractured werewolf territories lay spread across a heavy wooden table. Red lines crisscrossed the parchment, marking pack boundaries, ancient landmarks, and, most prominently, the word “Ashwood” circled in bold crimson.