Exposure: K.C.
The afternoon had been a blur of tactical arrangements and forced stillness. By sunset, the atmosphere in the cabin had this strange mix of sanctuary and command center. I had spent the last few hours checking the perimeter with the boys, moving through the brush despite the protesting ache in my ribs. My healing was finally kicking in, the fever subsiding into a dull, manageable thrum, but my mind was still wired tight. Outside, the air was cool and carried the scent of woodsmoke and searing protein. Holden was at the grill on the back deck, flipping thick cuts of steak for the other wolves. They all needed to eat after experiencing a trauma like the tether has caused, and the primal smell of the char was a small comfort to the pack’s frayed nerves. Inside, the kitchen was quiet, illu
- Writer
