_Alyssa's POV_
The night of the full moon had come. The old woman and I were seated at the small wooden table, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the walls. She was peering into her crystal ball, her wrinkled fingers resting on its surface. I tried to steady my breath, but my heart pounded with unease. I watched her closely, waiting for something—anything—that would tell us what was happening.
After a few minutes, the old woman stiffened. Her eyes widened, and she leaned closer to the crystal ball, her expression tense.
“What is it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Fear clawed at my chest.
“Damon,” she murmured, not looking up. “He is approaching the border of the pack territory. He has gathered his army of rogues, just as I warned.”
My stomach dropped. “How
