The wind carried the scent of pine and promise as Evelyn stood beneath the towering moon. Its silvery light bathed the sacred circle, casting long shadows over the bowed heads of those who had once cast her aside.
She hadn’t expected it.
Not the way Damien’s wolf had lowered his head in submission—not completely, but enough to shift the balance. Not the way the Elders had looked at her, not with doubt, but with a wary respect that was long overdue.
Evelyn's wolf, Aria, prowled at the edge of her consciousness, more at peace than she had felt in years.
“She sees you now,” Aria whispered in her mind. “And so do they.”
Evelyn shifted back to her human form in a flare of light, her cloak sliding over her bare skin like liquid silk. The crowd stared in hushed reverence.
She turned toward
