Chapter 8

Ralph

The crowd parted, and a familiar figure stepped into the light. His hair was silver with age, his eyes as sharp as a hawk's, and his face creased with lines of wisdom and experience.

It was Jasper, My elder brother, believed to have perished in the war between the Greyhound and Moonlight packs.

My mouth fell open in shock, my heart racing as I tried to make sense of this impossible scene. "Jasper?" I whispered, my voice hoarse with disbelief.

Jasper, dead for years, yet here he was, as real and alive as ever. My brother, my right hand, the one I had lost to that accursed war. How could this be?

I could feel the gazes of the pack burning into my skin, watching and waiting for my reaction. But I was frozen, my heart in my throat, as I tried to reconcile this reality with the one I thought I knew.

"Jasper," I repeated, my voice stronger now.

My mind drifted to Otsana, I noticed as she collapsed to the ground, her body quaking with relief. She buried her face in her hands, wee