The silence latched onto Enrique so hard that he felt it in his dreams. And not the peaceful kind.
The kind that settled gently over Darkhowl after midnight, when even the wolves seemed to breathe softer. This silence was sharp. It pressed against his ears until he stirred in his sleep, his brows remained furrowed for reasons unknown. His body could sense danger before his mind could name it.
Then came the knock. A soft, non-frantic sound that failed to mirror his nerves.
Enrique rolled over in bed, squinting into the dark. “Mama?” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.
The door opened almost immediately. His mother stood there fully dressed.
Her dark cloak was clasped tightly at her throat, her boots laced, and hair braided down her back instead of loose like it usually was a
