It happened three nights later.
Not during ceremony.
Not during conflict.
During laughter.
The valley had begun celebrating small things again—shared hunts, shared meals, shared stories that no longer needed to edit out half the truth. Selene stood near the fire pits, listening to Mira’s child babble in her mother’s arms while other wolves passed her gently from hand to hand.
The moon was rising.
And it was wrong.
Kael felt it first. His shoulders stiffened mid-laugh.
Selene followed his gaze upward.
The silver surface shimmered—
Then deepened.
A faint blush spread across it like spilled wine.
The laughter died.
“That’s not an eclipse,” someone whispered.
No shadow crossed it.
No clouds touched it.
The moon was turning red.
Not blood-dark.
Not violent.
But unmistakably c
