Elsa’s pov
It had been days since Dylan started acting… different.
He still said good morning. He still looked at me with those calm, unreadable eyes that used to make me feel safe. But now, when I looked back, there was something else something hidden. A heaviness that clung to him like the rain that hadn’t stopped falling since the night the doctor died.
No one had told me the full story. Only that the pack doctor had been “found dead near the forest.” A tragic accident, they said. But the way Dylan’s jaw tightened when I asked told me it wasn’t that simple.
He’d barely touched his food at breakfast, and he left early every morning always “pack business.” Every time I tried to ask what was wrong, he brushed my hand away gently and told me not to worry.
But I did worry. Because I cou
