The forest wind whistled through twisted branches, and even with the filtered light of the morning sun, there was a weight in the air. Lyra pulled the cloak tighter around herself, the one River had given her. It still carried his scent: earth, wood, and just faintly, blood. After all, someone always seemed to be dying in no man’s land.

The path had been quiet, and she walked for hours convinced that following him was the best option. But as the forest thickened and the growls of rogues became more frequent, Lyra’s confidence began to falter.

Wouldn’t it be better to hide among the humans? They’d never find her there. Kael would never know… Would he?

That had to be better than getting ripped apart on the road to a lost pack.

Do you really think it’s safe to go to a place that was cursed by the elders? Her voice came out firm, but it trembled at the end. The stories about the Alpha of the Blood Moon are anything but comforting. They say he’s a beast, a monster that feeds on other wolve