Risa couldn’t breathe.She lay on her cot, staring at the beams above, and every inhale snagged in her chest. The barracks should have been safe—wolves sleeping steadily around her, the warm scent of woodsmoke and leather in the air—but she felt trapped. Every breath carried whispers. Every shadow carried suspicion.Liora’s eyes most of all.She didn’t need to hear the words spoken aloud. She felt them in the air, heavy as storm clouds: She knows. She’s watching.And Cael—Cael’s silence was worse. He looked at her too long, too steady, not with anger but with that cold, assessing weight that had made Shadowclaw bow to him. His wolf saw her. And Risa’s own wolf cowered.She stumbled through drills the next morning. Dropped her blade twice, missed a block, and clipped her own wrist. Maren barked her name sharp as steel. The others smirked, murmured, and shook their heads.She forced a laugh. A joke. A shrug. But her throat was dry, and her hands shook even as she sheathed her weapon.Wh
Last Updated : 2025-09-09
