CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
The forest whispers around me, an audience of ancient trees watching my solitary march. I tread softly on the carpet of fallen leaves, my heart heavier than my footsteps. With each step, the faces of Tristan and Silas flicker in my mind like a relentless pendulum, swinging between loyalty and longing, duty and desire.
Tristan's hazel eyes glint with a warmth that beckons me toward memories of laughter shared under the moon's gentle glow. His light brown hair seems to catch the very sunlight, a stark contrast to the shadowy realm he hails from as Gamma of the Shadow Tail pack. In his presence, words flow from me with an ease that both comforts and confounds. His kindness, unassuming and sincere, tugs at something deep within my chest—a yearning for a connection unmarre
