The Luna's Tattoos
one barked, his voice rough, his eyes narrowing.
Dad stepped forward, his chest broad, his tone commanding. “I’m Alpha Aeron Black, from the pack. Here to see Luna Elara.”
The guard nodded, disappearing inside, and minutes later returned, waving us through. “She’ll see you.”
We stepped into the castle, the air cool and thick with the scent of sage and old wood. Elara’s room hit me hard—walls draped with faded tapestries, shelves cluttered with bones and jars, a fire crackling in a stone hearth. She sat in a high-backed chair, her silver hair braided tight, her eyes sharp despite the lines etching her face. We settled around her—Dad on a stool, Damien and Alaric on a bench, me on the floor, m
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