Luna
The pack house was quiet when Maeve and Cara’s spell unraveled and the world righted itself. For the briefest second, I stood between two realms—the warm safety of Morris’s home where I had seen my son, and this place that had been my cage for decades.
The hearth fire still burned low, casting flickers of light across the polished floors. Everything was exactly as I had left it, and that was the cruelest part. Nothing here bore the mark of my absence because I had not truly left. Not in the eyes of the pack.
Not in his eyes.
I pressed a trembling hand against my chest as my breath returned in harsh, uneven pulls. I wanted to collapse, to let the ache swallow me whole. Seeing Jace again—my boy, now grown, fierce and so much like his father—had cracked something open inside me that
