Lucy

“Where is my daughter?” The question burst from my lips, raw and desperate.

My hands trembled as I clutched Diana’s arm, my fingers digging into her flesh. “Do you perhaps know where she is?”

Diana’s eyes softened with understanding. She nodded slowly, her expression gentle. “Yes. She is the Luna of the Crescent Pack,” she replied, watching me carefully for my reaction.

I should have felt relief—my daughter alive, safe, respected, powerful even.

But the ache in my chest ...