56. The Quiet Between
Raven
It’s strange, waking up without fear in your throat.
For the longest time, mornings meant tight lungs, anxious thoughts, eyes darting to check if doors were locked, windows secured. But here… in the Silver Claws Pack… I woke to birdsong.
And warmth.
Not just from the fire in the hearth or the thick furs on the bed, but from the house itself. The people. The sense that I belonged.
My hands rested gently over the swell of my belly, already beginning to round more with each passing week. Sometimes I felt them, my pups, fluttering. Like wings against a cage. Other times I just held them like this, quietly.
I didn’t have my wolf yet.
But for the first time, I didn’t feel like a ghost. At least Thalia was here and I could talk to her.
The den’s courtyard buz
