Chapter 4 — Uneasy Allies

Ryland

The air inside the Silverclaw Den was thick with tension, a living thing that pressed against the stone walls and hung heavy in every breath. Ryland stood near the edge of the circular chamber, his silver eyes sweeping the gathered wolves and witches. The flickering torchlight cast jagged shadows across the damp stone, illuminating faces tight with unease. The low murmur of hushed voices filled the space, punctuated by the occasional scrape of boots against the floor. No one dared meet Ryland’s piercing gaze for long. His presence alone silenced more than a few whispers, but it wasn’t enough to quell the undercurrent of doubt rippling through the room.