The council chamber emptied slowly, elders drifting out in quiet clumps, voices low but sharp. Their decision still clung to the air like smoke: Bella would face the Moon’s Grove, a trial older than memory, one meant to test the very essence of a wolf.

But Bella had no wolf.

Alfred’s hand tightened on hers as if he feared she might slip away before they even reached the door. His jaw was locked, his storm-grey eyes unreadable, but Bella could feel his fury simmering beneath the ...