The night in Ravenclaw felt heavy, as if the sky itself pressed down on the rooftops. The moon hung behind a veil of clouds, its pale glow struggling to break through. The pack lands were restless, filled with murmurs of change, whispers of fear, and the unseen tension of something about to break. Evelyn stood on the balcony of the Alpha's quarters, her arms wrapped around herself, not for warmth but for control.
She could feel the pull of eyes watching her from below. Young wolves whispered her name with reverence, while the older ones muttered it with suspicion. She had never asked for it, but the name Luna had taken on a weight that belonged not just to Damien's mate but to the leader they craved.
A soft cough broke the silence behind her. Damien leaned against the doorway, pale and thin, his once broad shoulders sagging beneath the strain of his illness. His smile was brave, but his lips were tinged with blue. Evelyn rushed to his side and caught his arm before he stumbled.
