Finn

The reports landed on my desk with a dull thud, another stack of dead ends in my endless search. Five years of following every lead, every whisper, every trace of her scent – and still nothing. I rubbed my temples, trying to ward off the familiar ache of failure, when quick footsteps approached my office.

A sharp knock, then one of my trackers burst in, his eyes bright with urgency. "Alpha, I have information about the Luna."

My pen clattered to the desk as I shot to ...