The three women arrived at Shadowfang's borders just as dawn broke, their worn traveling cloaks concealing their faces.
Isadora led the way, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of the pack territory while her daughters followed behind.
"Remember," Isadora whispered harshly, "No one can know who we are. We're just refugees seeking work. Nothing more."
"I still don't understand why we couldn't just stay away," Sierra said quietly, pulling her cloak tighter. "Willow has a new life now. Maybe we should just..."
"Shut up," Savannah snapped, her blue eyes glinting with malice. "That little wretch thinks she can just become Luna? After everything? Mother's right. She needs to be reminded of her place."
Sierra fell silent, her stomach churning with dread. She had hoped, foolishly perhaps, that when they sold Willow to the palace all those years ago, it would be the end of it, but her mother and sister's hatred ran deeper than she ever imagined.
