Lucien
Lucien walked through the corridor with Nyla at his side, listening without needing to strain his ears.
Wolves never whispered quietly enough.
“…silver blood…”
“…the patrol carved open…”
“…she was seen walking the halls last night…”
It sickened him. Rumor spread faster than fire, and fire, at least, burned clean.
Wolves who had stood proudly in battle now spoke with lowered voices, their courage stripped away by darkness.
Lucien knew his pack, and how quickly fear could turn to frenzy.
His thoughts were darker with each word. His pack was disciplined in war but reckless with fear.
He had led them through winters and wars, yet whispers were another kind of enemy.
Fear always needed a face, a scapegoat, and in this fortress, they had found one in her.
She is Silver bl
