The corridors of Moonhaven were quiet, yet every footstep Elowen took echoed like a proclamation. Her boots tapped against the polished stone floors with a rhythm that spoke of determination, not hesitation. She did not flinch as glances followed her from behind doors or from the corners of hallways. For months, she had moved through these halls as a ghost, a shadow of the perfect Luna the pack expected her to be. Now, she moved as herself: unyielding, unbroken, and unwilling to allow anyone to define her limits.
Her chest ached with exhaustion, her body reminded her constantly of the fragility she carried within it, yet the fire inside her roared louder than her weakness. Lyra was no longer the dormant whisper she had been. Now, the wolf’s presence surged through her, filling the spaces
