RYKER’S POV

The pack house pulsed with energy, moving in sync while they were actively involved in the preparation of the marking ceremony. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that clung to skin and whispered of sacred rites. I could see a faint silhouette of Lyra as she stood by the window, with arms wrapped tightly around herself.

The moon was rising, full and red — the Blood Moon, and with it came a duty I must fulfil.

My heart ached as I stared at her from a distance.

She ...