The mountain air of the Sunstone Pack was crisp, thin, and biting, a stark contrast to the heavy, dense atmosphere of the forest lowlands. Three days had passed since the night of the Royal Masquerade Ball, and King Valex had spent nearly every waking hour in constant motion. He had climbed into his carriage the very morning after their return to the Moonlight capital, citing an urgent, long-overdue diplomatic meeting with Alpha Coren to settle the high-altitude trade routes along the northern ridges.
In truth, it was an escape.
Valex sat in the grand stone library of the Sunstone fortress, a large map of the northern territory laid out on the heavy mahogany table before him. Alpha Coren, an older man with weathered features and hair the color of granite, pointed a thick finger at a disputed border ridge.
