CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN - THE BLIZZARDS’ WRATH

Looking out over the grounds of Ulfheim, bathed in the soft morning light, Anna allowed herself a moment of quiet celebration. She had found her place in this magical, sometimes terrifying world of werewolves and ancient traditions. And somehow, against all odds, she had made it her home. Anna's heart raced as she descended the narrow stone steps into the mansion's cellar. The musty air tickled her nostrils, and she pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders. Her fingers traced the damp walls, searching for any irregularities that might reveal the entrance to the hidden passageway she'd overheard the staff whispering about. "There has to be something here," she muttered, her voice echoing in the darkness. Her hand brushed against a protruding stone, and with a soft click, a section of the wall swung inward. Anna gasped, her eyes widening as she peered into the pitch-black tunnel beyond. "Should I really be doing this?" she wondered aloud, biting her lip. The thrill of discover