ISAIAH
Night fell over the grove, dark and dense. The stillness was so absolute it felt unnatural—like the world was holding its breath waiting for something to occur. I sat on the edge of the pack's sacred grove, the crescent moon casting silver streams of light in the clearing. Most would be reassured by this stillness, but not me. Peace was a stranger, and it came to me with its own sort of pain. My sight, this damn "blessing," was to protect and guide the pack. But tonight, the visions abandoned the future, dragging me into the past.
Her face flashed before my mind, as it always did when the world grew too quiet. Selene.
Her name came into my head like a chant, silky and sugary but weighted with grief. A blessing, a curse, and whatever you want. I shut my eyes and the recollections
