The Council of Elders walked in, slow, heavy as nothingness. They followed, phantoms of a whisper, faces hidden behind a mask of absolute cold rationale. They were masters, the ones that made the old ways, and they were cruel to defiance.
Serena was a storm, relentless and determined, her hands bursting with energy. She could sense their gazes coming down on her but didn't flinch. She had crossed hell and had no choice but to keep moving forward now. The world was coming apart, and she was the one tearing it.
"You've made a grave mistake, Serena," the eldest of the Council, a man with a dominion of silver hair, said in a voice like ice. His eyes burned with rage, but fear stood beside it. You think you can go against us, go against the will of the packs? "You're a fucking little kid with a lighter."
