Emily Rosewood's Point Of View.
Raven Hollow, nine nights after the Trial
The Hollow had grown quiet.
Too quiet.
I stood by the tall arched window of the Alpha’s quarters, moonlight spilling across the floorboards like spilled mercury. The forest beyond looked harmless—silver-tipped pines, frost glittering on every needle—but the stillness felt wrong. Like the world was holding its breath before a scream.
The Moonstone’s words had rooted inside me and refused to leave:
“They will come cloaked in smiles.
One you trust will carry the flame.
The Alpha’s blood will open the gate.”
I pressed my palm to the cold glass, trying to quiet the frantic drum of my heart. The thought that someone inside our walls—someone we had broken bread with, fought beside, loved—could be the knife at Sebas
