The Mark of the Ancient
The courtyard never fully recovered after the attack. Even by morning, the scent of blood still lingered faintly in the air, soaked into the dirt and stone despite the servants washing through the night.
Wolves moved more quietly than usual, exhaustion hanging over the pack like smoke after a fire. No one laughed, no one lingered.
And every conversation seemed to stop the moment Katelyn walked near it. She noticed. Of course, she noticed.
But somehow that hurt less than the way Daniel had looked at her last night, not angry, not frightened, but worried.
Like he had seen something he couldn’t explain.
Katelyn sat near the infirmary window with untouched tea cooling beside her.
Beyond the glass, warriors repaired damaged barriers along the western edge while
