Denera
Rockan and I walked briskly through the corridors of the pack house, the echo of our footsteps bouncing off the walls. A sense of urgency filled the air, and I could feel my heart racing as we navigated the familiar yet overwhelming space.
“Do you think she’ll be in the kitchen?” I asked, glancing sideways at Rockan. His presence was a comforting anchor amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.
“It's a good place to start. The kitchen is always buzzing with activity. If anyone has seen her, they’ll know where to find her,” he replied, determination etched across his features.
As we reached the kitchen, the sounds of laughter and conversation filled the air, mingling with the rich aromas of simmering food. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.
This was i
