----Sindy----
The lodge was too alive.
By the time I finally forced myself to leave my room, the hallways hummed with the sound of footsteps, the low rumble of voices, the clatter of dishes echoing from below. It wasn’t like the Bureau dormitories I’d grown used to—quiet, sterile, where everyone kept to themselves. This place breathed.
And it was suffocating.
Everywhere I went, I felt eyes on me. Wolves. Men and women who belonged to Lorenzo’s pack, watching me as if I were a fire threatening to catch or a stranger intruding on something sacred. Some looked at me with open curiosity, some with suspicion, and a few with thinly veiled hostility.
I couldn’t decide which was worse.
The dining hall opened into a wide space filled with the smells of roasted meat, fresh bread, coffee. Wolve
