Elder Mora's POV
The goddess had been whispering ages before I was born. She spoke to my mother and grandmother. My great-grandmother also heard her whispers.
The first time I heard her voice was in the cries of an owl. And then in the tides of the river, then in the flicker of fire. Most of the pack dismissed it as madness. Maybe it was. But madness often carries truth, and I had lived long enough to see my visions become reality.
And now she whispered of Aisla.
The omega in the shadows. The one fated to become either our salvation or our destruction.
I watched her from the corner of the garden and the hallways.
I watched in silence as she transformed over the months. She wore her heart on her face. Anyone could see her trembling between the triplets, pulled and tugged until she thought she might split apart.
But beyond the visible changes in her gait and speech, they could not see the power within her.
Moonblood.
