The silence of the room was broken only by the faint creak of Madeline's wheelchair as she moved across the stone floor. Her gaze, though lined with the weight of centuries. Her voice calm and echoing slightly in the high-ceilinged chamber as she spoke.
"I have seen the end of my kind," she said slowly, as if tasting every word. "The Lycans were not defeated by beasts or steel. The world, child, simply hid in fear. Even the most revered Alphas could not stand against the elves. No matter how supreme we believed ourselves to be, in the final moments all we could do was hold onto our loved ones and wait for the end."
The weight of her words sank into Fang's chest, an ache spreading behind his ribs. He lifted his head, voice rough from the residual venom, "The elves, are they the ice witches?"
A pause, then a quiet smile tugged at Madeline's lips. "No. The elves created the ice witches. Let me tell you a little story."
