Rebecca’s POV
The low morning light filtering through the small window felt wrong somehow in the midst of all this chaos.
It appeared too calm.
Too ordinary for a pack slowly tearing itself apart outside these walls.
I found a quieter space in the room and sat on the edge of the makeshift cot someone had brought in overnight, staring down at my hands that now looked different to me. The mark on my shoulder was quiet for once.
No burning. No pulling. No whispers from Jeremy. But somehow the silence felt worse. Every time I closed my eyes, I still heard the warrior’s voice.
“They won’t die protecting the witch who brought this war on us.”
The words sat heavily in my chest and rang in my ears from time to time.
Matthew barely looked like he’d slept.
He paced near the door constant
