Only what the dead dream of!

Coming down from the mountains after finishing off Clarkson should have given me peace, but it didn’t. My hands were still stained, not with blood… I’d washed that off… but with the weight of unfinished business. Clarkson had become a liability. He was talking too much, and when a man starts to grow a conscience, especially in the kind of things we were into, you do not give him a chance to explain himself or use whatever is in that conscience.

The breeze from the forest brushed over my face as I walked through the pack grounds. Everything looked the same, but something felt off. There was a heaviness in the air. A tension I couldn’t name.

And then I saw her.

Tabitha.

At first, I didn't believe she was the one until I got close… and closer.

She was leaning against the wooden pillar outside Kaidon’s quarters, arms folded tightly across her chest, mouth pressed into a thin line. Her foot tapped the ground slowly, rhythmically, like a ticking bomb waiting for the right second to ex