The full moon rose like a watchful eye above Blackmoon Forest, pale and pitiless.
Beneath its light, the students stood silent, lined up in perfect rows outside the Trial Gate. No one spoke. No one dared.
Rayne's hands were fists at her sides, her heart galloping. Her wolf paced within her, teeth bared. Not from fear—but from anticipation. Blood was in the air. The kind that stirred instinct.
Across the clearing, Lucian Wolfe stood like a statue carved of obsidian. Commanding. Still. But his golden eyes, glowing faintly in the moonlight, weren’t still at all. They burned—and they were fixed on her.
Head Instructor Rhys Calloway stepped forward, his voice like stone cracking.
“The Moonrise Trials,” he began, “are not for the faint-hearted. They are not a game. Not a test to see who’s t
