Dinner in the packhouse is always loud, but tonight the noise feels sharper. Focused. Every laugh, every scrape of a chair, every clatter of dishes is layered with the same unspoken question:Who is she?I sit at the head of the table, but my attention keeps drifting to the seat across from me—where Kieara sits, shoulders straight, chin lifted, eyes scanning the room like she’s preparing for an ambush. She’s trying to look composed, but the bond betrays her. I feel the flickers of tension, the instinctive spikes of alertness, the way her wolf paces under her skin.Not fear. Not submission. Just readiness.Oakley sits beside her, eating like he hasn’t seen food in a week. His magic hums around him, warm and steady, wrapping her in a quiet shield. I’m grateful for it. He’s grounding her in a way I can’t—not yet.Lenox sits to my right, posture relaxed but eyes sharp. He’s watching the room the same way I am—tracking reactions, cataloging expressions, assessing threats. Maris sits t
Last Updated : 2025-12-27 Read more