She pressed her palms against her eyes, as if she could block the voice out.
“I’m done arguing,” she said finally. “You can want what you want. I’m choosing differently.”
Her wolf growled faintly, not in anger but in frustration.
You will regret silencing me.
“Maybe,” Emily replied quietly. “But I’d rather regret silence than being an orchestrator to someone's downfall.”
With that, she shut the door on the conversation inside her own mind and began humming an old tune she was taught as a kid
Over the next few days, the shift was subtle but unmistakable.
Emily trained harder, spending longer periods in Eleanor's place.
But something in her approach changed, there was no joy in it anymore. No spark of discovery.
It became routine, just simply controlled and mechanical.
She spoke l
