The Alpha’s Dirty Little Secret
A single, jagged beam of concentrated light shot from the observatory’s roof, piercing the atmosphere and pointing straight at the lunar spire.
"It’s out! We’re through!" Elodie collapsed, her ribs heaving. She looked up at the beam. "Leo... baby, please. Just look at the signal. Turn it off. Let the sun come back."
The moon remained indifferent. For five minutes, the only sound was the wind whistling through the ruined telescope and the heavy, animal panting of the two wolves. Then, the moon blinked.
Not the whole moon. The spire. A rhythmic, pulsing violet flash began to echo their signal. It wasn't a confirmation. It was a pattern.
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