Freya's POV
Old Wound
The stillness of the night had long settled over the Shadow Claw pack, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. The ancient stones of the packhouse seemed to whisper of old battles and lost glory. As I sat in the kitchen, spooning the last bit of ice cream into a bowl, my thoughts wandered to the past, to the blood that had been spilled for our pack’s survival. But before the weight of it could settle fully on my chest, a voice broke through the silence.
“Well, hello there.” Bjorn’s deep, gravelly tone pulled me from my reverie. I glanced up from my bowl to see him standing in the doorway, his broad frame outlined against the faint moonlight streaming in from the window. His eyes, sharp as a wolf's, seemed distant... and haunted, even.
Bjorn w
