We all turned in unison as Jane and Harper approached, their strides swift and purposeful.

“What is it?” I asked immediately, forgoing any pleasantries.

“Luna,” Jane replied, her voice the steady, firm tone of a senior Sentinel. “Alpha Malcolm sent us to retrieve herbs to treat silver-inflicted wounds.”

My eyes darted to Mom, a fresh wave of panic cresting inside me. Mom, understanding my silent terror, spoke for me. “The stock of Silverspark root we gathered... it appears someone has tampered with it.”

Harper looked between us, his expression a mix of confusion and growing unease. “Forgive me, Beta Imogen, but... what exactly does that mean?”

“It means,” I clarified,...