"Rise," the old woman said, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm too old for such formalities."
I felt Maison and Jackson shift closer to me, their protective instincts clearly triggered by this unexpected arrival. Uncle Mateo stepped forward, his face lighting with recognition.
"Willow Stone," he explained to me. "The oldest living Moon Wolf historian. She was thought to have passed decades ago."
"Reports of my death were... convenient," Grandmother Willow said, her eyes—a startling silver-blue that reminded me of my own—fixed on my face. "For those who wished to erase our kind from memory."
She approached me with surprising grace for one so ancient, reaching out weathered hands to touch the bracelets on my wrists. At her touch, both flared with renewed energy.
"The Moon and Shadow set," s
