The clearing is quiet, deceptively calm. The pack is scattered across the training ground, moving through routines, but I feel the air thick with something unspoken. My wolf hums, alert, sensing more than I can see.
Chloe isn’t here. Not that I expected her to be—Asher’s words last night echo in my mind, a warning sharp enough to cut through any arrogance. “Do not test her again.” She hasn’t. I let the small satisfaction of that linger, though it’s fleeting. There’s no joy in silence when it carries tension, and this one hums low in my chest.
I glance at my mother. She moves slowly, deliberately, taking small breaks more than I remember. Every step seems calculated to preserve her strength, conserve her energy.
She’s still formidable, I know that, but her body betrays her—she can no lo
