The Ghost at the Feast

Nadia POV

The great hall was full of noise, but it was the wrong kind. It wasn’t the happy noise of a pack sharing a meal. It was the tense, sharp noise of a pack holding its breath. Every laugh from Noah’s end of the room felt too loud, like a challenge. Every quiet word from our end felt heavy, like a secret.

You could see the split right down the middle of the room, clear as a knife cut.

At the head table on one side, Noah sat in his big Alpha chair. Maya was pressed to his side like a second skin, her arm linked through his. Around them sat Kael and the other younger warriors, the ones who liked Noah’s new, bold way of talking. They laughed loud at his jokes, they cheered when he spoke, but their eyes were hard, always watching us.

At the other big table, Neal sat. I was right beside him, my chair close to his. Old Man Hermlock was there, his wrinkled face serious. the healer sat with us too, and a few of the older, steadier warriors with grey in their hair and scars on their arms