Chapter 39 Beneath The Moon That Does Not Choose

• The caravan moved more slowly that morning. Dawn had fallen with a dew so thick it seemed to have veiled the entire world. The roads were muddy, slippery, and the carriage Ellie traveled in jolted with every bump as if it were trying to throw her off. Outside, the wolves escorting her—now in human form—walked with heavy steps, tense faces, exhausted bodies. Only Daelan, firm as a statue, seemed untouched by the mud or fatigue, as if even the earth didn’t dare reach him.
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• Inside the carriage, Ellie rested her forehead against the bars. She absentmindedly traced a line on the floor, then erased it with the back of her hand even though it was imaginary. She was tired of the confinement, of the forced silence, of the eyes watching her as if she were a valuable or dangerous artifact. Tired of not belonging… and of everyone seeming to assume she eventually would.