"The wolves who mocked the moon forget one truth… the moon always rises."
The Blackwood courtyard had never been this silent.
Hundreds of wolves stood frozen in a wide circle around the open clearing. Warriors, elders, noble families, servants—everyone had followed Prince Ariel outside, drawn by a strange tension thickening the evening air.
Even the wind seemed to slow.
Torches flickered along the stone walls as the last light of sunset bled across the sky.
In the center of the courtyard stood Isolde.
Alone.
Her breathing had grown uneven as another wave of heat rushed through her veins. Every nerve in her body burned, as if something deep inside her was fighting to break free.
She pressed her hands against her chest.
“What… is happening to me?” she whispered.
The pain was growin
