Chapter 9: The Wolf Who Wouldn’t Kneel
Olivia's "Liv" Winters’ POV
The aftermath of blood always came quietly.
Not immediately—never immediately. First came the noise, the chaos, the howls and shouted orders, the metallic tang of spilled blood thick in the air. Then the wounded were carried away, the borders reinforced, the night swallowed the echoes.
Only then did silence return.
And silence was when the truth crept in.
I stood on the watchtower overlooking the eastern ridge, fingers curled around cold stone, the moon hanging low and swollen above the treeline. The wind tugged at my cloak, carrying with it the fading scent of Grey pack wolves—fear, anger, humiliation.
They would remember tonight.
So would Ethan.
Cora stirred inside me, restless but satisfied.
He felt it, she mur
