Killian
The whispers wouldn’t stop.
Every corridor I walked, I caught the tail end of hushed voices. Every time Lyra’s name surfaced, it came tangled in suspicion. A laugh pitched too high, an elder muttering as I passed, pack members bowing too stiffly to hide the unease in their eyes.
They didn’t say it aloud, not to me. I was their Alpha, my authority still commanded obedience. But I wasn’t deaf. I wasn’t blind.
I heard them.
And what I heard made my blood boil.
“Witchblood.”
“Unnatural.”
“She bewitched him.”
Lies had been planted like seeds, now sprouting in every corner of my pack. The longer they spread, the harder they would be to root out. And the thought of Lyra, my mate, my Luna, being dragged through the filth of their fear made my chest ache like something was tearing
