Martha had not expected to come back to Snow Moon territory so soon.
She didn't go back to the pack house. She didn't write to her father. She didn't even step near the old borders for the first few days. Instead, she quietly moved into a small rented room above a bakery in town, close enough to smell the bread every morning, far enough that no one recognized her at a glance.
Most people here only knew her by the name on her application.
Mara T.
Her real last name never appeared on the papers Jonathan arranged.
“You have options," he'd said when they parted ways at the estate. “This is one of them."
Now she stood in front of a glass building at the edge of town, heart thudding.
A silver logo curled over the door—an elegant swirl that looked like a wisp of smoke. Beneath it, in clean
