Wren's POV
I don't tell anyone until morning, mostly because I don't trust my own voice not to shake apart the second I try to put it into words. The dining hall here is nothing like Ashgrove's, smaller, louder, full of pack members eating shoulder to shoulder and talking over one another the way Sable warned me they would, and I sit at the end of the table pushing food around my plate without much appetite, rehearsing sentences in my head that all sound too small for what I actually need to say.
Sable takes one look at my face over breakfast and sets her fork down like she already knows.
"Okay," she says. "What happened?"
"I had a dream." I turned my mug in slow circles, watching the steam curl up instead of looking at her. "About the fire. Except it wasn't like the flashes I've had b
