The day began the way all good days in the pack did—soft, warm, and full of noise.
Morning sunlight spilled through the tall trees that surrounded the territory, filtering through leaves and branches in dancing patches of gold. The air smelled like pine and damp earth, clean and familiar. Somewhere in the distance, laughter rang out, carried by the breeze, followed by the rhythmic thud of paws against soil as wolves ran freely along the borders.
Inside the largest house near the heart of the pack, Giselle and Gloria were already awake.
The twins lay sprawled across their shared bed, tangled in blankets and limbs, identical dark curls fanned across the pillows. Giselle was the first to stir, blinking blearily as sunlight nudged its way through the curtains and kissed her cheek.
“Gloria,
