The early morning light stretched thinly across the horizon, bathing the pack grounds in a muted glow. It had been a week since Hattie left, and each sunrise since had found me awake, pushing myself into tasks and responsibilities, anything to keep the ache at bay.
Brooks:
I stood at the edge of the clearing, watching as a group of pack members worked together, rebuilding a community garden Callen had let wither away through neglect and indifference. The sounds of laughter, tools clinking, and gentle conversations filled the air, evidence of the healing slowly weaving through the community.
It had been challenging—confronting the damage Callen had wrought. His harsh rules and oppressive methods had left scars, both visible and hidden. Undoing that damage was painstaking work, but each d
