The announcement was made at sunset.
No ceremony. No embellishment. Just a single Alpha command that rolled through the Blackclaw pack like a stone dropped into still water.
At dawn, there would be a hunt.
Not a ritual chase meant to bond wolves or celebrate strength.
A proving hunt.
Selene felt the shift in the air the moment Silas spoke the words. The pack's collective energy tightened, sharpened, teeth coming out one by one behind polite smiles. This was the kind of event wolves pretended was about tradition while quietly sharpening knives.
A hunt revealed everything.
Skill. Instinct. Weakness.
And mercy was not part of the rules.
Selene stood at the edge of the training grounds as night deepened, watching warriors prepare. Weapons were cleaned and strapped away. Blades were inspected, then set aside.
This hunt would be done in wolf form.
Pure instinct.
Pure truth.
