The sapphire ice was no longer a surface; it was a stage for a tragedy that had been written in the stars long before I was born. Around us, the ten thousand wolves of the Blood-Moon Pack stood in a sprawling, silent ring. Their crimson eyes, usually a source of strength, were now wide and flickering with a terrifying uncertainty. Through the collective bond, I felt their horror. It was a cold, sharp vibration, a jagged chord that threatened to shatter the synchronization of the Choir.
In the center of the ring stood Leo.
My brother. The boy who had stolen scraps from the Alpha's table to feed his "wolfless" sister. The man who had faced an entire army to find me. He looked small against the vastness of the Frozen Sea, his chest heaving under his tattered furs. But it was his eyes that broke my heart. They were no longer the warm, earth-brown of my childhood. They were a brilliant, translucent sapphire, the same icy hue as the High Queen's frost.
