Selene’s POV
I do not sleep.
This is not a surprise. I lie on my back in the dark of my small third floor room and stare at the ceiling and listen to the pack house settle around me, the old wood contracting in the cold, the distant sound of wind against the east wing windows, and I wait for my body to stop humming long enough to let me rest.
It does not stop.
I have spent three months building something careful inside myself. Not happiness exactly, I am not dishonest enough to call it that, but something functional. A life with edges I could manage. Coffee at five-thirty. Work that needed doing. Mara’s voice in the corridor. The mountains outside the window that never change and never ask anything of me. I built it piece by piece out of whatever was left after he said those words in t
