June
The packhouse settles differently at night.
The noise fades gradually, not all at once—voices drifting away, doors closing, footsteps softening until the halls feel more like a heartbeat than a building. Sylvie had passed out almost the moment her head hit the pillow, exhaustion finally winning after days of adrenaline and chaos.
I hadn’t followed.
Instead, I sit curled into the deep window seat in the sitting area, knees drawn up, bare feet tucked beneath me. The glass is cool against my shoulder as I stare out at the forest beyond the packhouse, dark and endless and quiet in a way that feels heavy instead of peaceful.
Tomorrow is my Luna ceremony.
The thought doesn’t feel real yet.
My mind keeps drifting backward instead—back to Silver Pine, to hallways I knew by heart, to th
