Skye’s POV
The road to Crescent Valley stretched out ahead of me, long and quiet under the silver light of the moon. The forest held on to me at first—the tall pines whispering in the wind, the ground soft and damp beneath my boots. Every step felt like a small act of defiance, a promise that I wouldn’t go back to the pack that treated me like nothing. My legs ached, my lungs burned, but I kept going. I wasn’t just walking anymore. I was looking for something.
When I finally reached Crescent Valley, the air changed. It felt lighter, sharper, alive in a way I hadn’t felt before. The valley sat between high cliffs, glowing faintly under the moon. Villages lined the slopes, their lanterns warm against the cool blue night.
I stopped a few times just to take it all in.
Children ran barefoot
