SAGE
The curfew made the pack feel like a caged beast.
Every night, as the bell tolled at five, the streets emptied like blood draining from a vein. Doors locked. Windows shuttered. The air itself seemed to hold its breath. And though no one said it aloud, fear had become the kingdom's heartbeat.
It reminded me too much of my last days in the witches' community—when I had been Dora. When the queen had released the beasts to patrol the borders, their glowing eyes slicing through fog and darkness, promising safety through terror. Back then, the people had believed those creatures could keep the monsters away.
Here, there were no magic beasts. No guardian spells etched into the walls. Just mortal werewolves, pretending their patrols would be enough against things that fed on souls.
And, as the whispers in the pack kept proving, they weren't. Not their fault really. The vampires were terribly cunning.
