Leah Carter’s Point of View
The first full moon of our exile burned cold and bright above the treetops. Its light spilled across the forest floor like silver water, and in its glow, the Forgotten wolves gathered.
Kael stood beside me, his expression unreadable as the leader of the Forgotten, the gray-haired man called Elder Roen, motioned for us to step forward.
“Tonight,” Roen said, his deep voice echoing through the clearing, “you prove your worth. If the Moon accepts you, the forest will not harm you. If it does not…” He paused, eyes glinting, “…then the forest will decide your fate.”
No one spoke, the air was sharp, humming with quiet power.
Kael’s hand brushed mine briefly, grounding me. “Stay close,” he murmured.
Roen lifted his staff, carved with strange runes. “The trials beg
