The wind blew softly as Arwen stepped out of the meeting room with Luna Heather.
Her heart still felt heavy. Her mother-in-law’s words kept echoing endlessly in her mind—about lineage, responsibility, and the strength a Luna must have when her Alpha cannot return.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her chest. But even when she reached the mansion’s front terrace, the tightness refused to fade.
She looked up at the sky, now tinted in shades of copper, and decided: she wouldn’t return to her room.
Her steps carried her down the stone path leading toward the heart of the Pack’s territory.
The sounds of life there soothed her a little—the firm strides of guards, the laughter of children, the aroma of freshly baked bread from the communal kitchen that made the evening
