a's

m. I listen for sounds. Most of the time, I hear nothing. Sometimes I hear water drip

me I saw the sun. I simpy cannot. Its warmth is a ghost in my mind. I try t

h one is a day, or maybe a night. I lose count. I start again.My stomach hurts. I am hungry all the time. The

Lila and I used to steal honey from Old Mara's kitchen. We would laugh, our

d the moon. "The moon binds us," she said. "It calls our blood." She left to help a scout wounded in a rogue attack, like she always did when the pack need

and fierce. She calls my name, Lyra, her voice despe

to call my wolf. She is quiet, deep inside me. She

I lose track. Sometimes I talk to myself, my voice hoarse. I talk to my wolf. I talk to the

er face pale in the dim light. She moves fast, closing the door behind her. She kneels beside me, her brea

its crust tough but soft inside. I drink the water,

yone believes Lila's lies," she whispers. "Some st

I ask, my voice small. Mira shakes her head, her lips tight. "No one knows. Some say she is comin

my throat. Leah is out the

There is a mark on it-a crescent moon, stitched in silver thread. I know it fro

it. I do not know who." I close my fist around the cloth, my heart p

llages beyond the forest. They come at night, leaving things behind-animal bones, carved with strange marks, like warnings. Some think it is a curse. T

ut fierce. But fear follows, cold and sharp. The Pure. I heard stories as a child, tales of human

," she says. "Some say the elders are hiding something, a prophecy

ophecy? My sister's face flashes

. "I have to go," she whispers. "They will no

otsteps fading. The darkness c

I think about my mother, her stories of the moon

is still there, weak but alive. I whisper, "Do not leave me."I try to shift. I close my eyes. I reach for my wolf. Pain goes through me, like fire i

, "I am s

mark into the wall

for m

art a fire. I will hold on to m