Chapter 4

I gathered the broken shards of my father's pottery, each piece cutting deeper than the last. The destruction of my herbarium wasn't just an attack on my work—it was the deliberate erasure of generations of healing knowledge. My wolf, Luna, continued to snarl within me, her rage matching my own quiet devastation.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. Elara stood in the doorway, her young face pale in the moonlight as she took in the destruction.

"Luna," she whispered, stepping carefully over broken glass to kneel beside me. "I heard what happened. I'm so sorry."