The Winterveil Pack
“Arwen, look,” Ryan’s voice was gentle from the driver’s seat. “That’s the main gate of the Winterveil Pack.”
Arwen lifted her face, her breath catching at the sight before her.
A grand white-stone gate carved with the emblem of the full moon towered gracefully, adorned with climbing vines of pale blue blossoms that sparkled under the midday sun.
Her eyes widened at the bustle beyond the gate.
The people of Winterveil, men and women alike, lined the cobblestone road, greeting them warmly. There were no suspicious glares, no looks of disdain. On the contrary, their eyes radiated acceptance.
“Welcome to Winterveil, miss,” a middle-aged woman carrying a baby called, waving warmly.
Arwen instinctively smiled, her heart trembling. “They’re so kind.”
Ryan glanced over
