Harper
Moira did not say much when she told me to follow her into the bush. Based on past experience, that usually meant one of two things. Either she had an actual plan and was being mysterious about it, or she had absolutely no plan and was hoping the forest would improvise.
“Just so we’re clear,” I said as I stepped over a thick root, “if this turns into one of those cryptic witch lessons where you say something wise and then disappear into the trees, I’m going home.”
Moira did not even look back. “Walk, Harper.”
That was not reassuring.
We moved deeper into the bush, far past the training clearing and the paths the pack usually used. The trees here were older than the rest of the territory.
Their trunks twisted high above us, branches weaving together so tightly that sunlight fi
