The gravel crunched beneath my boots, a sound that, for five years, had only existed in the echoes of my nightmares. Each step toward the grand entrance felt like walking through waist-deep water. The air here didn’t just carry the scent of the pack; it carried the weight of every bowed head and every muffled sob I had ever stifled within these walls.
Beside me, Leo and Luna walked in perfect, eerie synchronization. I could feel the curiosity of the pack members peering from the windows of the barracks and the shadows of the porch. They didn't see Elena, the "Null" servant who had supposedly drowned in the White River. They saw a specter in black lace, a healer of terrifying reputation, flanked by two small, silent shadows.
The Shrine of Lies
As we reached the base of the stairs, I stop
