The wind was colder up here as it was snowing. Aurora stood at the edge of what was left of the Nyx Umbrae pack grounds, her boots crunching over stone and frost.

The ruins didn’t sing with memories like some sacred places did. It just sat there in their silence, cold and lifeless, with jagged walls leaning on each other like old bones that had forgotten how to hold themselves upright.

The earth was littered with blackened stones from being burnt by fire.

She had read about it before she came, every dusty scrap of history she could find in the records Rowan didn’t even know she’d stolen from the...