Chapter 16. Moonfire

The fire crackled low, a rhythm of embers and whispers, when a figure emerged from the shadows at the edge of the camp.

“Alpha,” the young scout said, dipping his head respectfully. “We’ve got an intruder.”

Kaelen rose instantly from where he crouched near the fire, the word intruder sparking tension in his shoulders. But when he turned toward the camp’s boundary, the tight coil in his body dissolved into something else entirely.

There, bathed in moonlight like a ghost conjured from memory, stood Mira.

Her braid was loose, trailing over one shoulder. Her face looked drawn, too pale in the silver light. She clutched her sleeves like they might keep her from unraveling.

Kaelen was halfway across the clearing. He meant to make a joke—a dry remark about her promise to avoid nighttime visits—but the look in her eyes stopped him cold.

“Mira?” he asked, voice low and sharper than intended. “What happened?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I k