Sindy
The lodge was suffocating that night.
The walls pressed close, the air thick with smoke and voices, the weight of the pack’s howls still echoing in my bones. Even though the fire had long since burned down to embers, the heat lingered, clinging to the wooden beams like breath. I shut my chamber door and leaned against it, my legs trembling, my chest heaving as though I were still on the cliff, still fighting for balance with the void yawning beneath me.
My staff slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor. The sound was sharp, final. My palms still stung from gripping it too tightly, my knuckles raw, my shoulders aching from the strain of holding myself together.
But none of that was what rattled me most.
It was his voice.
Then why are you still standing?
The words cut sh
