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chapter 9

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โ˜…๐•บ๐–‘๐–Ž๐–›๐–Ž๐–†

The memory of Ronan in the pantry, his gaze too knowing, his proximity too potent, lingered like a phantom touch. I tried to dismiss it, to chalk it up to my own exhaustion and the general chaos of the palace. But the truth was, nothing felt normal anymore.

Not my body, which healed with unnerving speed, nor my senses, which seemed to capture every whisper and distant scent, nor my mind, which was increasingly preoccupied with the Alpha and his bewildering scrutiny.

I found solace, as always, in the kitchens. The familiar rhythm of preparing meals, the comforting scents of spices and baking bread, were anchors in my suddenly shifting world.

Today, my focus was on crafting a special herbal broth for some of the older pack members, a recipe passed down from my mother, Luna Freya. It was a soothing, earthy aroma that usually brought a sense of calm.

But as I stirred the simmering pot, the familiar tang of wild herbs was suddenly pierced by another, sharper scent. Smoke. N
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