Damien’s POV
The first time I heard her name again, I dismissed it.
Silvercrest was always full of rumors. Wolves talked—about training results, about alliances, about who impressed a visiting warrior and who embarrassed themselves during drills. Noise like that blended into the background of pack life, and I had learned long ago how to filter it out.
So when I overheard two warriors speaking near the armory, their voices low but animated, I didn’t slow my steps.
“…handled it better than anyone expected,” one of them said.
“Didn’t freeze. Didn’t shout. Just moved.”
I assumed they were talking about training.
Then I heard her name.
“Aria Williams.”
My steps faltered before I could stop myself.
I told myself it meant nothing. That curiosity was natural. That hearing a familiar name
