News traveled fast through the council wing—quiet, but unstoppable. Elder Rowan had barely finished his shocking announcement before messengers rushed around the pack house. Doors shut softly. Guards took their posts along the halls. Even the servants got sent home early.
Something wasn't just happening—it was serious.
Lyra sat alone in a tiny waiting room next to the elder’s study. Her heart beat so hard she could feel it in her throat. The golden mark on her wrist had faded, but she could still feel its warmth, like something alive beneath her skin. She couldn’t stop staring. The symbol almost looked as if it shifted straight through her.
Five centuries, she thought.
How could something that old show up on her?
Mara paced across from her, muttering, “This doesn’t make any sense. Why
