Sometimes the dead don’t need to rise to start a war. All they need to do is be remembered.

Lucian was not a man who scared easily, but tonight, fear sat heavy in his chest like a stone. He stood alone in the war room of the Crescent Moon Pack’s main hall, pacing slowly around the table. His hands were behind his back, his jaw tight.

He stared down at the map. Candle wax dripped onto the edge of it, and his eyes followed the trail of hot wax like it was a sign from the moon.

“She’s ...