“Since I was young, maybe eight. That’s when my mother died.” She adjusts Luna on her shoulder, using the motion to avoid my eyes. “The pack...They made it clear I wasn’t welcome anymore.”
Eight years old. She’s been enduring this treatment since she was eight years old.
“Where did you live?” As soon as the question slips out of me, I recall the little house I searched.
“In a cottage at the edge of the settlement. Away from everyone else.” Her smile is brittle. “They gave me just enough to survive, and in exchange, I did the jobs no one else wanted. Collecting herbs from the most dangerous parts of the forest, mostly.”
“They sent you into unsafe territory alone.” It’s not a question.
“Every week. The Wyvern Woods, past the territorial markers where even adult shifters won’t go.” She s
