Petal's Pov

Night swallowed the pack lands in a heavy silence as we approached the forest edge. The moon was high but dim, its light barely cutting through the tall trees ahead. The warriors Aslaan selected moved behind him in a tight formation, eight of them, all skilled, all loyal. No one joked, no one whispered. Grief sat on us like a second skin. Rosie's death had ripped something vital from the packs, and every step into these woods felt like stepping deeper into the heart of ...