The days seemed to blur together as the tension in the pack continued to rise. Every step I took felt like it was shadowed by an impending sense of doom. Alaric’s presence was a comfort, but even he couldn’t quell the unease that had settled in my chest.
Late one night, I found myself unable to sleep, my thoughts too chaotic to allow for rest. I slipped out of bed and quietly left the room, careful not to disturb Alaric, who had finally managed to drift off.
The packhouse was eerily quiet as I made my way to the common room, the only sounds the soft creaks of the floorboards beneath my feet. I poured myself a glass of water and stared out the window, watching the moonlight dance across the trees.
My mind drifted to the past—my childhood, the simpler times before the weight of leadership
