Diana's POV
The Blue Moon Pack gates loomed before us, massive and familiar, yet somehow more imposing than I remembered. Five years ago, I'd been dragged through them in chains, expected never to return. Now I approached them willingly, though the churning in my stomach suggested my body remembered the trauma even if my mind was determined to move past it.
"Are you ready?" Lucian asked quietly, reining his horse to a stop beside mine.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Damian sat before me on my saddle, mercifully unaware of the significance of this moment, his attention caught by the intricate carvings on the wooden gates, twin wolves howling at a crescent moon, the pack's centuries-old symbol.
"Those are pretty," he observed, pointing. "Like in your stories, Mama."
My throat tightene
