Third Person P.O.V.
The sun hovered low in the sky, casting an amber glow over the Blue Moon pack, bathing everything in the soft light of anticipation. The air carried a whisper of something sacred—something inevitable.
Inside Bella's house, the mood was hushed but electric. The living room had been transformed into a sanctuary of preparation. Curtains had been drawn, lights dimmed, and the scent of burning herbs lingered in the air. In the center of the room, Claire sat cross-legged, surrounded by bowls of moonwater, bundles of sacred herbs, vials of glowing liquid, and lines of salt that created intricate protective symbols on the floor.
Her eyes were closed, hands resting on her knees, fingers curled in a meditative gesture. Slowly, she opened her mouth and began to chant:
"Oh Moon
