~ DAMON ~
Walking to the campfire, it’s the same as any Winter Festival, nothing new. The flames rise high, lighting up the dark sky. Everyone is laughing, eating, and drinking. The sound of drums mixes with the crackle of fire.
Pack members jump over the flames, shouting wishes for a good spring, for awakening the Earth from her slumber. Even outsiders are always permitted. It’s one of the few nights the Faceless Pack feels alive… happy.
I stand on the outskirts of the festivities, hands in my pockets, watching. Maddox growls low inside me, he hates the noise, the crowd.
Watching High Priestess Selara burn her incense, I try not to think about the vision she said she saw… the Twelve.
The Moon Relic, that piece of useless rock, will one day untie this mess we’re all in. A savior, one
