HEATH’S POV
The entire pack had gathered.
Not for celebration. Not for an announcement. Not for a hunt. For judgment.
Cold wind swept across the clearing in front of the pack house, carrying tension so thick it felt suffocating. Wolves stood shoulder to shoulder beneath the gray afternoon sky, whispering among themselves in hushed voices.
Everyone knew. About Posy. About Mara. About Rosalie storming the dungeon half-feral and covered in blood.
Fear lingered in the air because of it. Not fear of Alpha Rayven. Not even fear of punishment. Fear of what happens when a mother wolf loses her child.
I stood near the front beside Rayven while holding Posy carefully against my chest. She was bundled in thick blankets, sleeping softly despite the noise around us.
Alive. Still alive.
Every fe
