Lady Eleanor. The name sends a pulse of curiosity through me. I try to keep my tone casual. “Lady Eleanor—she’s close with the King?”
Lena glances at the door again, lowering her voice. “When King Camille took the throne, all of our pack assumed royal positions. Anyone who wasn’t part of the pack was dismissed.”
My pulse quickens. “Your pack?”
She bites her lip, eyes flicking up to mine. “The Silver Fang pack.”
The name hits me like a jolt of electricity. My wolf stiffens inside, tail raised, alert. We know that name.
But from where? I can’t place it.
“I’ve never heard of them,” I lie softly. “Are they from the north?”
Lena nods. “Once. Before the war.” Her gaze turns distant, shadowed. “Before everything changed.”
There’s pain there—deep, old pain. I don’t press further. Instead,
