Fifty eight

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As the celebration reached its crescendo, a sense of tranquility settled over the grand hall. The laughter and chatter subsided, and my pack members gathered around, their expressions turning serious. It was then that I noticed the envelope, a foreboding presence amidst the joyous atmosphere.

I opened the letter, and my eyes scanned the words, each one etching a growing sense of concern within me. The letter bore the mark of a werewolf pack—an unfamiliar sigil, yet its implications were clear. The message inside was cryptic, its intent veiled in secrecy and malice. It hinted at a threat to our kingdom, to our pack, and to the delicate balance we had worked so hard to maintain.

My heart clenched with a mixture of apprehension and determination. This was not a time for fear; it was a time to rally our pack and face whatever challenges lay ahead. The safety of our kingdom and the well-being of our people depended on it.

Glancing up from the let