The room was quiet after Rylan’s confession, the crackling of the fire the only sound between them. Lena stood close to him, her hand still resting gently on his arm, the tension between them softened by the shared understanding of their pasts. Rylan’s pain was raw, but she could sense the way it had shaped him, molded him into the protector he had become. He had lost everything—his family, his pack—and yet he stood here, willing to fight for something greater.
But even as the quiet settled between them, Lena couldn’t shake the feeling that there was still more to the story. Something darker.
She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice soft but steady. “You told me your pack was killed by those seeking the leyline’s power. Was it… was it the Bloodmoon Pack?”
Rylan’s expression
