The valley below Hollow Mountain glowed in twilight as the first Founding Day of the Lunar Fang Pack began.

Celeste stood at the overlook, watching warriors and pups string lanterns between the stone pillars. The night air shimmered with anticipation and the faint scent of woodsmoke and honeycakes. Soft music drifted up from the lower terraces, flutes and laughter, the sounds of healing.

She wore her formal leathers, the ones Althea had enchanted to shimmer with silver threads under ...