The sky above Moonstrike Pack looked somber, as if it shared the same worry that gripped Arwen’s heart.
The wind brushed softly against the mansion’s stone walls, yet the Luna’s chest felt unbearably tight. She stood by the tall window of her chamber, gazing far into the forest stretching beyond the pack’s borders.
Out there—beyond the mist and the cliffs—her mate, Alpha Zion, was at war.
She closed her eyes and drew a long, trembling breath, trying to calm the unease pounding in her chest.
“Zion, can you hear me?”
She focused her mind, trying to mindlink him. A faint shimmer of light appeared, shaping a blurred outline of Zion’s figure. But the harder she tried, the more it faded. A sharp pain began to pulse at her temple.
“Zion…” she whispered weakly. “Say something…”
No response
