But unmistakable.
Tall.
Feminine.
Her features sharp and ancient.
This time Axel and Atticus react.
They stiffen.
They see her.
A low murmur spreads through the kneeling collective as every pair of eyes lifts cautiously.
The figure does not touch the ground.
She stands slightly above it, her presence distorting the light around her.
When she speaks, her voice does not echo only in my mind.
It fills the clearing.
“The moon goddess was never divine.”
The words strike like thunder across the forest.
Wolves stiffen.
Witches exchange startled glances.
Even the vampires shift subtly.
“She was a wolf who ascended,” the figure continues, her tone calm but unyielding. “A leader who harnessed the rising and reshaped belief.”
My chest tightens.
“Wolves built temples,” she says. “Wo
