The soft rustle of the wind through the ancient trees carried a strange stillness that Evelyn hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t peace. It was anticipation—like the forest itself held its breath, waiting. Waiting for something to rise. Waiting for someone to break.
She stood at the edge of the training field, overlooking the warriors preparing for the Moonfire Summit. The summit, meant to unite the remaining packs against the growing rogue threat, was only two days away. And with it came the return of long-buried histories and old wounds.
Evelyn folded her arms, watching as Kendall sparred with a younger warrior. His movements were clean, precise—refined over years of discipline. She could tell he was holding back, his mind distracted. She didn’t blame him. Her mind was in chaos too.
Behin
