Liora POV
The mating ceremony’s glow lingers like the moon’s own afterimage, the packs laughter and triumphant howls drifting on the cool lake breeze, a living tapestry of joy woven under the waxing silver light that makes the night feel electric, alive. The Blood Moon Pack’s unity hums in the air, warm and fierce, a shield against the shadows that still stalk us. I stand at the water’s edge, bare feet sinking into the damp, cool earth, the lake’s surface a perfect mirror of stars and fractured moonlight. Gentle waves lap at my toes, rhythmic and soothing, but they can’t quite wash away the weight pressing on my chest. The Silver Dagger is tucked in my bag, slung across my shoulder, its ruby hilt pulsing against my hip.
The pack’s celebration is a balm after the ruins’ peril, but the we
