Garrick’s POV
The wound in my side burned with every step.
That’s Good.
Pain kept old wolves at alert. Experience has taught me this.
I moved slowly through the eastern corridor of the mansion, one hand pressed briefly against the bandaged tear beneath my ribs. The healers said I should still be resting. The healers said a lot of things.
But most of them had never survived a real war before this one. They’re newbies, I thought to myself.
The mansion felt different now. Not louder. Quieter. And that worried me more. Fear was settling into the walls like rot. As I approached the healing wing, whispers drifted through the corridor before the room itself came into view.
Whispers about her.
The marked girl.
Rebecca.
I had seen what happened in the training courtyard with my own eye
