The morning air was crisp and heavy with the scent of dew as I stood on the balcony of the packhouse. The forest stretched endlessly before me, its canopy shimmering under the golden rays of the rising sun. For a moment, the tranquility almost felt like peace. Almost.
Last night’s events replayed in my mind—the tension between the pack and the weretigers, the delicate balance we were trying to strike. Caius had been a bridge, but even his mate bond with Marcus wasn’t enough to smooth the sharp edges of our differences. And then there was the memory of Carter’s voice, calm yet firm, asking the hard questions about where we were heading. His words lingered, echoing louder than they should have.
“You’re thinking too hard again,” Morrigan growled softly in the back of my mind, her tone both
