Azandra POV
New Moon City gleamed in the new dawn. Everything looked and smelled so … new. Different.
Did the council building always have those detailed carvings of wolf ancestors? Why had she never noticed them before?
The grassy area outside the city seemed softer, greener. The smells from Azandra’s home were stronger.
Very few people were out and about at this hour, so she couldn’t hear if the gossip was new. Why in the name of Fenrir did she care?
Because this was her pack, her family, and her home.
Kyon walked beside her in human form to Cresta House. She didn’t even look in the direction of Birdcliff. Cresta House felt like her safe haven as always. She couldn’t hide there forever, but going to Birdcliff turned her stomach. She needed a lot more strength to talk to her parents without turning into a screaming lunatic.