The morning air carried a weight I couldn’t shake off. It wasn’t heavy like a storm or sharp like winter’s bite, it was different, charged, as if the very earth under my feet was holding its breath. When I stepped out of the pack house, I caught myself pausing, listening to the silence that stretched too far. The birds were gone. The forest beyond our borders stood still.“Good morning, Luna,” one of the younger warriors greeted me, his voice clipped with respect but tight with something else fear, maybe. His eyes darted past me, scanning the line of trees, even though the sun had barely crested the horizon.“Good morning,” I answered softly, forcing a smile. I let my hand brush over my belly in instinct, grounding myself. For the baby. For Devon. For all of them, I can’t let the fear sink in.Around me, the pack was alive but not in its usual rhythm. Instead of laughter and chatter, the soundscape was filled with the scrape of blades being sharpened, the crack of wooden staffs agains
 Última actualización : 2025-09-27
Última actualización : 2025-09-27