Luna was eighty when the prophet Cassandra returned. The same blind seer who'd delivered prophecy at fifteen now appeared at Nightshade's borders, far older than seemed possible for a mortal wolf.
"I have lived to deliver a second prophecy," Cassandra announced. "The Moon Goddess preserves me for this purpose alone. After I speak, I will finally be allowed to rest."
Luna met the ancient prophet with mixed feelings. The first prophecy had predicted her burnout before twenty, a fate she'd narrowly avoided through desperate innovation. What terrible future was being predicted now?
They gathered in the same council chamber where the first prophecy had been delivered. Cassandra looked impossibly old, held upright by sheer divine will rather than physical strength.
"Luna Nightshade, bridge c
