THE MOON'S FORBIDDEN MATE
The path beneath their feet wasn’t dirt anymore, but ash.
“I feel like we’re walking on graves,” Lily muttered.
Callum didn’t answer. His senses were heightened, eyes glowing faintly in his wolf state. He didn’t trust anything about this place, and for good reason.
Suddenly, a branch snapped ahead.
They froze.
Lily raised a hand instinctively, her fingers igniting with that familiar silver-blue flame.
A figure stepped out of the mist.
Then another.
And another.
Ten in total, figures wrapped in ragged cloaks, faces masked with carved wood and animal bone. Their eyes glowed with different colors—red, gold, green, and violet—but none matched the usual shades of werewolves.
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