Three Months Passed.
Three long, deceptively peaceful months.
Silas made no move. No attacks. No sightings. No whispers in the shadows.
Some packs began to breathe again, to relax, to believe the danger had passed.
But Ethan never did for a moment. His instincts were too sharp, his paranoia too justified, and his fear, his bone-deep, mate-shaped fear, never let him loosen his grip on vigilance.
Meanwhile, life at Black Moon softened in small ways. Ruby’s belly formed a gentle swell, and her glow according to Shadow grew warmer every day. Whitney hovered around her like a dramatic auntie in a sitcom, alternately marveling at her bump and lecturing her on prenatal snacks despite knowing nothing about wolf pregnancies.
Though the world felt unnervingly quiet after three months of fruitl
