†Noca's POV †
I stood outside the throne room, my gaze fixed on the ancient walls, wondering what secret they held. Wondering what it was behind these stones that made the Wolf King, Rhaziel of the West, attack because of it years ago.
Contrary to what the Alpha Council had been told about the cause of the North's conflict being the Outlands, it wasn't. He might have demanded that too, the Outlands, lying along the western borders but that land had once belonged to the North, long before the betrayal of Eryndor.
It was said the land carried strange abilities, healing wounded wolves whose lifelines were believed to be fading. They said the trees there bled saps capable of curing any ailment. But ever since Eryndor's betrayal, it became a cursed ground, demanding appeasement offerings annually to avoid it swallowing the heads of my people who dare step on it.
