Each minute stretched endlessly as she waited for night to fall.
Lyra sat on the edge of her small bed, her hands clenched tightly on her knees, her gaze fixed on the window. The faint light of dusk had faded long ago, and only a smear of blue still lingered on the horizon. She could hear her own heartbeat louder than the distant howls echoing across the Crescent Moon Pack.
She was waiting for the moon to rise. She always waited for the moon.
It was her signal, her only shield in the dark. But tonight, her pulse beat faster, heavier, because she knew what she was about to do. One wrong step, one wrong sound, and not only her mission but the lives tied to it would crumble.
Finally, the sky surrendered to night. Stars spilled across the heavens, and the moon rose high, round, and bright.
