Luna woke to the scent of burned sage and singed fabric.
Her fingers twitched against the soft, unfamiliar bedding. A dull ache sat behind her eyes, like she’d been crying in her sleep—or battling demons. When her eyes fluttered open, she was met with the sight of silken drapes swaying gently in the breeze, morning sunlight streaming through the tall arched windows.
This wasn’t her bedroom.
For one disorienting second, she thought she might’ve died. Then came the sharp awareness of her body—her skin was buzzing, electric under the surface, like tiny sparks were dancing along her veins. Her wolf stirred restlessly, just under her ribs.
And then she heard the voice.
“Still alive, huh? That’s… statistically surprising.”
Luna blinked at the ceiling. “Saffy?”
“Present and panicking,” Saf
