At sunset, the tide was low at the Sea Stack Amphitheater, leaving a vast crescent of wet black sand exposed between towering basalt sea stacks that jutted like giant stone teeth from the churning Pacific surf. Over six hundred werewolves—the entire Blackwood Clan—lined the natural stone ledges overlooking the beach. The ocean spray drifted like cold mist through the air, reflecting the blood-orange glow of the setting sun. The atmosphere…
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