Camille
The reports are stacked in front of me like a tower of failures. The paper smells of ink and sweat, a constant reminder that my pack bleeds resources faster than we can replace them. Rhys stands across the table, his hands clasped behind his back, posture military sharp. He doesn’t flinch at the silence stretching between us. That’s why I keep him—he doesn’t speak unless there’s something worth saying.
I flip another page, scanning the latest incident reports. Patrols doubling on the borders, scouts sighting unmarked wolves near the valley. I can practically taste the unease creeping through the ranks.
“Unrest is growing,” I say finally, not looking up.
Rhys shifts his weight. “Yes, Your Majesty. The banishment of the Nightshade pack stirred more trouble than we anticipated. Th
