Chapter 82

• The night after the trial was still and cold.
• The fortress slept, but no one rested easily. The pack had seen too much—fire, blood, and the Moon’s hand moving in ways no wolf could understand. Even the air seemed to tremble under the weight of what had passed.
• Ariana walked the ramparts alone, her bare feet silent against the stone. The moon followed her like a silent sentinel, its light turning her hair to silver threads. Each time the wind shifted, the mark on her wrist pulsed, faintly warm—a reminder that she no longer belonged fully to herself.