Becoming Luna
Mystickthe alpha who watched in silencethe alpha and his warriorclaimed by my enemy alphathe altar where i left my alpha
I can’t tell.
A whisper brushes against the back of my mind. Not my voice, not a sound I know, but familiar enough to make my chest tighten.
I reach toward it.
My fingers pass through empty air. The whisper folds into itself.
I try to call out. My lips part, my throat moves, and still… nothing.
No echo, no sound, only the pressure of the fog pressing against me, thick and unyielding.
Fear bubbles slowly, crawling up my spine. I want to pull away. But something… something pulls me toward it.