Sleep never came.
Not for me.
Not for Beaumont.
The village remained awake long after the hunter disappeared.
Lanterns burned through the night.
Warriors patrolled the walls.
Families gathered inside their homes.
Doors remained locked.
Windows remained covered.
Fear lingered everywhere.
And somehow...
I couldn't blame them.
Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face.
Malric.
The smile.
The silver eyes.
The certainty.
The way he'd spoken about my mother.
The way he'd looked at me as though I were a piece of a story he'd spent years searching for.
My wolf paced endlessly beneath my skin.
Restless.
Angry.
The same way I felt.
I sat beneath the window of my room, staring at the moonlit village below.
Nothing felt familiar anymore.
Not the packhouse.
Not Beaum
