The evening air in the woods was still, yet alive with sounds of leaves brushing against each other. Elia stood by her horse, cloak drawn close around her shoulders, her gaze fixed on the distant dirt road that led out of the Crescent Moon Pack’s gates. The light was fading fast… the horizon painted in shades of amber and rose, the sun dipping low behind the trees.
Her heart pounded in her chest. Each passing moment stretched like eternity.
Then… there. A faint rumble of wheels. A shadowed carriage rolled into view, its wooden wheels creaking softly under the waning sun.
Elia’s breath hitched. It was the seamstress. She waited until the carriage was well away from the Crescent Moon Pack’s walls before she stepped out from behind the trees, her boots crunching lightly against fallen leav
