The forest was too quiet.
Even the night birds had fallen silent, leaving only the whisper of wind and the faint creak of the trees. Lyra stood at the balcony overlooking the northern ridge, the cold biting through her cloak as unease prickled at the back of her neck.
Kellan had been gone for days - dead, but not gone. The pack had buried his body, honered his memory, even if his betrayal made it bitter. Yet, something in the air told her his spirit hadn't found peace.
She pressed her hands against the railing, the silver mark on her wrist glowing faintly beneath the moonlight. The Goddess's power was restless inside her, a pulse that warned her of imbalance.
Behind her, the door opened. Dorian stepped out, his dark hair tousled, his face shadowed by exhaustion. The loss of his brother
