(Caleb’s POV)
I rode until thorns tore my sleeves and blood marked the reins. The velvet pouch stayed fastened against my chest.
At every turn, I checked that the Moonstone was still there.
I changed horses only once. Wind dried the cuts on my face. By the time Ghostwood closed around the trail, my legs shook whenever I stood in the stirrups.
Another wolf might die before I reached Aria.
Beyond Ghostwood, white marble steps climbed out of glowing mist to the Holy Moon Sanctuary. There were one hundred of them.
The place belonged to stories told to pups. It appeared on no map in my council room.
Yet the marble was solid under my hand, and light moved behind the mist without torch or moonstone.
I left my exhausted steed at the tree line and stumbled to the first step. Mud covered my
