The Graves’ territory lay in silence—deep, unbroken, and peaceful. Not the quiet of peace—but the stillness of memory.
She hadn’t come for herself.
Talia had always felt safe here. She was here to ensure that her son, Luca, and the family he would one day lead would inherit that same peace she and Alina once had—and that she would do whatever was necessary to protect it.
Talia stood at the edge of the stone markers, frost creeping across the earth beneath her boots. Names etched in languages no longer spoken. Wolves who had died before the Moon Goddess ever learned to look away.
Sera arrived without a sound.
No flare.
No warning.
Just the subtle pressure shift that told Talia she was no longer alone.
“You chose to meet here at their graves,” Talia said, not turning. “That’s either
