The tension in Silverpine had become a living thing.
Three weeks had passed since the full moon claiming, and while Elena’s position as Luna had grown stronger with the younger wolves, the older traditionalists remained restless.
Garrick’s group had grown from a handful to nearly two dozen, meeting in private and whispering about “preserving the purity of the bloodline.”
Elena felt every cold thread in the pack link like ice against her skin.
This morning, she stood in the training clearing once again, working with a mixed group that included both supporters and skeptics.
Sweat glistened on her warm brown skin as she demonstrated a defensive maneuver in partial shift — claws extended, senses heightened, body still mostly human.
“Use the bond,” she instructed, circling a hesitant yo
