The forest changed beyond the Ridge.
No longer cruel, but quiet.
Not safe—just ancient.
It no longer whispered threats. It remembered.
We walked for hours without speaking. Rylan didn't rush me. He moved like he knew the trees would open when they were ready.
And they did.
Near midnight, the canopy thinned into a crumbled clearing. The ground sloped downward into a sunken depression choked with vines, half-covered by ash and moss.
I stopped.
My breath caught.
Stone.
Carved pillars. A domed ceiling collapsed inward. Half-circles buried in the earth like forgotten bones.
This wasn't just a ruin.
It was a temple.
And I had seen it before.
In my vision.
The Moon Goddess. The burning sky. The silver threads strung across twisted branches.
This place was older than any scent. Older than the packs.
"Rylan," I whispered. "This is it."
He nodded once. "The Temple of the First Luna."
