Tara’s POV
The whispers in the pack had changed. For weeks, they had been murmurs of pity, sympathetic glances cast my way, the soft, suffocating kindness of the pack towards their "grieving" Luna.
I walked the corridors of the pack, my chin held high, but my ears were tuned to the shadows.
“Did you see them in the council chamber this morning?”
“The Alpha hasn’t consulted his own cabinet in three days. He only listens to her.”
“She’s not even a member of our pack, and yet she walks beside him like she’s already claimed the throne.”
The words were like needles pricking at my skin, constant and stinging. My stomach churned with a mixture of bile and cold, hard fury. They were talking about Havana. They were talking about the woman who had breezed into my life, my marriage, and my kin
