The morning air in Moonrise was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the weight of anticipation. For weeks, the pack had been stirred by a new energy, a quiet yet powerful shift that had started with Aria’s truth in the Assembly Hall and continued through the healing ritual. The whispers of scandal had faded, replaced by something else: respect, awe, and a quiet but hopeful shift. But today, that hope would either grow or break apart under the weight of Xander’s actions.
The Temple Courtyard, a place usually reserved for small, quiet blessings, had been transformed for the occasion. Benches lined the wide flagstones, all facing the central altar—a massive stone, pale and smooth, carved from a single piece of moonstone. The banners depicting the Moonrise sigil fluttered gently in the bree
