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CHAPTER 11: THE WEIGHT OF WHISPERS

last update publish date: 2026-06-24 06:55:21

IRENE

The first sign was small enough that I almost missed it.

Breakfast.

For eleven days, the pack omegas had brought my meals without being asked. A tray outside my door in the morning, hot and covered. Lunch delivered to the medical wing. Dinner left on the desk in my quarters with a small wildflower tucked beside the plate, something I had come to suspect was not pack custom but Ashford's quiet instruction.

On the twelfth day, the tray did not come.

I waited longer than I should have before
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