The world stopped spinning. Aria's mother stood at the edge of the field, her Luna power crackling like lightning around her body.
But something wasn't right. Luna Blackthorne's skin had a ghostly shimmer, and her eyes held depths that seemed to stretch into forever.
"Mom?" Aria whispered, her voice breaking.
The possessed wolves froze mid-attack, their black eyes turning toward this new danger. Even the Wraith seemed confused, its control slipping for the first time.
"Impossible," Malachar breathed. "She's been dead for years."
"Death is just another realm," Luna Blackthorne said calmly. "And some bonds are stronger than the grave."
She stepped forward, and where her feet touched the ground, silver flowers bloomed. The very air around her hummed with old power.
"Aria, listen carefully," her mother said without taking her eyes off the affected pack members. "The Wraith eats on pain, but it starves on unity. Remember that."
