Holly didn’t realize how tightly she’d been holding herself together until she was alone.
The room Rowan had given her was warm—too warm, almost—but she still felt cold beneath her skin. She sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap, staring at the faint flicker of firelight dancing across the walls.
Two wolves were dead.
The words echoed in her mind, over and over, refusing to settle.
She knew Rowan hadn’t said it to frighten her. If anything, he’d looked like he wanted to shield her from it, to carry the weight alone. But the reality lingered anyway—sharp, unavoidable.
People had died because of lines drawn in snow.
Because of her.
No, she corrected herself, exhaling slowly.
Because of them. Because of Korren. Because of choices made long before she ever stepped foot on
