Fog drifted across the moonlit sky as the rhythmic roar of crashing waves rose from the cliffs below. Standing at the precipice was Aria Stormborn-Blackthorne, the only child of Layla and Ronan, staring out at the endless sea. The night wind whipped her dark hair around sharp cheekbones, echoes of her mother’s fierce beauty. Yet behind her eyes burned a restless spirit, one that pulled her in directions neither of her parents had ever gone.
Aria inhaled deeply, letting the salty air fill her lungs. Even in her human form, she sensed the moon’s pull. Its silver glow draped her lean figure in shimmering light, an ethereal reminder of the Stormborn-Blackthorne legacy. She felt the ancient wolf inside her chafe at restraint, coiled tight like a predator awaiting release.
Two decades had pass
