Amara’s POV
Blackthorn is never truly quiet.
Steel rings against steel near the forge. Someone laughs too loudly in the quarters. The scent of crushed herbs drifts from the healer’s quarters. Wolves argue, wolves flirt, and wolves exist without apology.
It is different from Silver Moon Pack.
Silver Moon had polish.
Blackthorn has pulse.
I’m halfway across the lower courtyard when I hear it.
“Silver Moon has a new Luna,” one of the older warriors mutters near the forge. I don’t slow.
I don’t need to.
My wolf already has.
“Smart decision,” an older warrior says near the forge. I recognize his voice, Bram, gruff and direct. “After what happened with the former Luna, they needed stability.”
Former Luna.
The words slide across the courtyard like a blade.
“Rumour is he searched for
