The valley was quiet at dawn. Mist clung to the edges of the trees, curling around roots like ghostly fingers, but inside the sanctuary, life stirred. Wolves moved cautiously, hunting, stretching, testing the boundaries of the land Lunaria had claimed. The Moon’s energy hummed faintly beneath the soil, responding to her presence, steady and reassuring. Lunaria stood at the center of the valley, silver eyes scanning the horizon. Kael had remained through the night, sitting silently by the fire, watching but not speaking. That alone was a challenge—years of rejection had forged a barrier between them, one no words could easily cross. Her wolf shifted beneath her skin, restless. You feel it, don’t you? “Yes,” Lunaria whispered. “I feel him. And I don’t trust him.” Kael approached slowly, every step deliberate. His golden eyes avoided hers, instead surveying the valley as if seeing it for the first time. When he spoke, his voice was low. “I didn’t touch the land,” he said. “Not last
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