The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the Bloodstone Pack’s gathering hall, casting golden streaks over polished wood and the worn stone floor. Crystal moved among the pack members, her gaze calm, her wolf Bree resting quietly beneath her—dormant but present, a constant reminder of the goddess’s protection.
She paused to watch a group of younger wolves practicing pack coordination exercises. Their laughter rang clear, unguarded, a sound that had been absent for far too long. It warmed her chest. The pack was healing. They were thriving.
“Your Alpha presence is intimidating,” one of the apprentices whispered, ducking slightly as she passed by, “but… kind.”
Crystal smiled. “Intimidating? You must have mistaken me for someone else.” Her lips curved into a grin as the wolfish
