She finally got to the pack house after she left Melissa’s girls.
The walls hold whispers—low murmurs of disdain woven into the air, curling against the cold stone. Every step Nana takes echoes, not because she is loud, but because the house itself refuses to absorb her presence. She does not belong here. Not in these halls that carry the weight of hate, nor among the gazes that cut through her, dismissing her as something lesser than the dust on the floor.
The moment she steps inside, her head feels hazy, she can feel strength draining from her, she tries to ignore the feeling, just one more step and she will be at her quarters but having to carry her legs is the issue.
She takes in breath, trying as much as she can to breathe enough to get her to her door. She moves cautiously, slippi
