Eight Years Later
Eight years can change a kingdom.
Eight years can rebuild a heart.
The Goddess had been generous to Crescent Moon—more generous than Elaine ever dared to pray for in the years when she still bled in silence. The forests that once echoed with the dangers of wandering rogues now hummed with life and laughter. Silver pines arched like cathedral columns above their territory, sunlight pouring through the branches as though the moon and sun had made a treaty over this land.
The alliance with their neighboring packs held strong. Threats came and went like distant storms—brief flashes of danger before the skies returned to blue. When rogues crossed the border, they did not last. Darius’ warriors moved like shadows, precise and unyielding. Crescent Moon was a sanctuary forged
