Welcome Home, Ghost
By nightfall, the packhouse no longer looked like a place recovering from bloodshed.
Torches burned along the stone walls in soft golden rows, servants rushed between halls carrying trays of food and silver pitchers, and music drifted faintly from the gathering hall below.
The long-planned welcome celebration for Gabriel had begun.
Katelyn stood in front of the mirror in her room, staring at herself without really seeing anything.
A death record. For you. The words had followed her all day like a shadow stitched to her heels.
Every time she tried to think clearly, she saw Daniel’s face again—that rare moment where his composure had cracked completely.
Fear, real fear, not for the pack, for her. A knock sounded softly at her door.
Katelyn didn’t answer immediatel
