The morning air smelled faintly of pine and fresh bread from the kitchens, a strange combination that Aria was slowly getting used to. She carried a basket of clean clothes through the packhouse, careful not to lose her way in the maze of corridors. Every hallway seemed alive—wolves passing, nodding politely, some with guarded looks that made her skin prickle.
She told herself she didn’t care. She was here for Ethan, and that was enough.
But when she turned into the training yard, the low murmur of voices stopped her. A group of young wolves had gathered, their gazes fixed on her as though they had been waiting. At the center of them stood Maren.
The other woman was striking, her beauty sharp and untouchable. Tall, athletic, her dark hair pulled into a sleek braid, Maren radiated the ki
