*Mila*

***14 Years Later***

“Wait a second!” Ciana’s eyes grew wide open as she gasped, “So the real artifact of our pack is not the Feather of Justice?!”

“Correct,” I confirmed.

Ciana jumped down from a low branch of a cherry tree, in her arms were some freshly picked, luscious, red fruit. She dropped the large heart-shaped cherries on the picnic blanket and sat down next to me.

“I need a moment to process this,” she ...