The Weight of Wolves
They returned to the packhouse just before dusk, the air thick with unease. Every eye that landed on Caleb was heavy with suspicion, every murmured word a sharp edge.
"That's him," someone whispered as they passed the mess hall.
"The traitor omega."
"Why would Rowan bring him back?"
Caleb kept his head high, expression unreadable. But Rowan saw the subtle stiffness in his shoulders, the tight line of his jaw.
They entered the council chamber where the elders awaited—seven wolves in worn leathers, each more skeptical than the last. Micah stood at Rowan’s side, tense but silent.
Caleb didn’t bow. He didn’t avert his gaze. He stood like someone who had nothing left to lose.
“You,” Elder Kiran said, voice like flint, “dared return after abandoning your kind?”
Rowa
