Duggar
The forest was quiet, but inside me there was nothing but fire. I could still taste Josiah’s voice, that false tone of regret and false humility. He had the audacity to look me in the eye and speak of apologies, as though his father’s sins were a small stain that could be wiped away with words. I had listened, outwardly calm, but every syllable was another reason to sharpen my claws.
He thought I would believe him. He thought his performance… talking of Niagra’s corruption, of elders who used him, of his supposed shame over what Crimson Pack had done to Silent Blues, would loosen my guard. But I saw through it. Josiah’s hypocrisy stank worse than blood left to rot in the sun.
If he truly meant what he said, he would have stepped down. He would have offered me Crimson Pack in repa
