L E I L A N I
My first instinct was to feel a flicker of satisfaction. Served him right. But as I watched them, a different feeling washed over me. A strange, unwanted sense of connection, of empathy. They were mourning one of their own. A family, grieving. And I, in my own way, was a part of that family now. A prisoner, a hostage, but a part of it nonetheless.
I went back to bed, the sound of their grief a lullaby. I slept, but it was a restless, troubled sleep, filled with dreams of wolves and loss.
The next morning, the atmosphere in the house was somber, thick with sorrow. Lyra was quiet, her usual cheerfulness replaced by a heavy stillness. Even the sunlight streaming through the windows seemed muted.
Fenrir was gone. Lyra told me he'd left before dawn, to handle things on the bor
