The embers in the Moonstone Sanctuary's fire pit glowed low, echoing the tension in the air. Aria stood in silence, shoulders squared, eyes sharp. Mara was gone. Banished. But the real threat was stirring beyond the veil—faster than anyone had expected.
Behind her, the Circle moved cautiously through the aftermath of the ritual. Rowan tended wounded wolves. Elena gripped a parchment with a trembling hand. Solene whispered prayers of healing. Caleb watched Aria, worry and determination etched on his face.
A sudden splash broke the stillness.
A mortal wolf—bloodied, exhausted—collapsed at Aria's feet, clutching a broken insignia. The proof: the seal had failed to hold back something ancient.
Aria knelt. "Who sent you?"
He rasped, voice thin: "Nytheris… sealed beneath the roots… awakened by the breaking. She's not Mara."
Aria registered the name, controlled her breath. "Speak clearly."
