CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Late that night, I watch Ryan move with purpose among the pack. His voice carries on the wind, commanding yet infused with an uncharacteristic gentleness. My heart beats in rhythm to his words, knowing he's calling them to my ceremony. The mesa awaits, its towering presence a silent observer to the ritual that could save us all.
"Let's go," Ryan says, locking eyes with me. "It's time to bring the rain."
I nod, feeling the weight of expectation settle on my shoulders like a mantle. We set off, the pack falling into step behind us, the sound of our footsteps a collective whisper against the hard-packed earth.
"Are you ready?" Ryan asks without looking back at me.
"Always," I reply, though my voice trembles slightly with the lie.
As we ascend the winding path up to
