CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The murmur of the pack members fills the den, a cavernous room with walls that seem to absorb sound and magnify tension. I stand in the middle, feeling every bit as small as my frame suggests, but I'm not cowed—not today. My hands may be shaking, but my voice, when it breaks the expectant silence, is surprisingly steady.
"Jackson found me," I begin, my gaze flickering across the sea of faces, some hostile, others curious, "not in the physical sense, but where it mattered—in spirit." I hold back a tremor as I continue, "We were in the woods, and I was lost, not in location but in purpose. He didn't care that I couldn't shift or that I was an orphan, scorned by those who should have been my family."
A few heads bow, shame or perhaps remorse flashing in their eyes. "He
