The full moon rose slowly over Black Hollow.
Silver light spilled across the forests, illuminating snow-covered trees and ancient stone paths leading toward the northern cliffs. The territory looked almost peaceful beneath the moonlight.
But the illusion fooled no one.
Warriors lined every border.
Howls echoed constantly through the mountains.
And somewhere deep beneath the earth—
Valdris waited.
Lyra stood silently near the entrance of the pack house while servants fastened the final silver clasps around her ceremonial cloak.
The fabric shimmered faintly beneath moonlight, woven with ancient lunar symbols meant to protect the wearer during spiritual rituals.
Protection.
Moon Goddess.
She hoped the old magic still worked.
Her hands trembled slightly.
Not from the cold.
From f
