Our Broken Howls 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 121 - 챕터 130

Sera POV Morning did not arrive gently.It pressed in through the trees with a pale, restless light that made shadows feel unfinished. Ravenwood woke as though it had slept poorly, as though every wolf had turned the same heavy thought over and over in their mind and found no edge smooth enough to rest on.I felt it before I opened my eyes. The tension was no longer sharp. It was dense. Settled. Like a held breath that had gone on too long.Erya was already awake when I stirred. She lay on her side facing me, eyes open, quiet, observant. She had inherited that stillness from my wolf, that ability to watch without fidgeting.“You’re thinking loud,” she said.I smiled faintly. “Am I?”She nodded. “Everyone is.”I brushed my fingers through her hair, grounding myself in the simple truth of her warmth, her presence. The world outside could shift all it wanted, but this was real. This was solid.When we stepped outside, the compound felt different again. Less like a place of authority. Mo

Sera POV Morning did not bring clarity.It brought noise.Not the sharp kind. Not alarms or shouts or chaos. This was worse. It was the low, constant murmur of a pack that had tasted its own voice and realized it did not want to give it back. Conversations started before sunrise and did not stop. Wolves gathered in small, shifting groups that broke apart and reformed again. Nothing settled. Nothing resolved.The council’s silence after the assembly had not cooled things.It had ignited them.I felt it the moment I stepped outside. Eyes tracked me openly now. Not with awe. Not with fear. With expectation. That was heavier than either.I did not ask for this role.But the pack was assigning it anyway.Lyra joined me near the water basin, her expression tight. “They’re splitting,” she said without preamble. “Not openly. But it’s happening.”“Along which lines?” I asked.“Authority versus accountability,” she replied. “Not council versus pack. That’s the problem.”I exhaled slowly. “That

Sera POV Morning did not arrive gently.It crept into Ravenwood like an intruder, pale and watchful, as if the sun itself was uncertain whether it was welcome. I woke before the birds, before the patrol horns, before the quiet hum of pack life usually stirred. My wolf was already awake, pacing beneath my skin with restless, scraping energy, her senses pressed outward as if searching for a threat she could not yet name.The council’s proclamation from the night before sat heavy in my chest. Not because it surprised me, but because it confirmed what I had been trying not to say out loud.We had a past disagreement.We were standing on a fault line.I stepped outside, letting the cool air bite into my lungs. The clearing looked the same at first glance, cottages still standing, paths still worn smooth by years of use, but the feeling was wrong. Wolves moved carefully, glancing over shoulders, voices lowered even when they spoke of ordinary things. Trust had become something fragile, ha

Sera POV The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that the air felt thinner.Not colder. Not sharper. Just stretched, as though Ravenwood itself was holding its breath and waiting to see who would exhale first. My wolf stirred uneasily, her senses brushing outward before I even opened my eyes, cataloguing tension the way she once catalogued threats.This was worse than a threat.Threats were honest.I rose quietly so I would not wake Erya. She had curled into the center of the bed sometime during the night, one small hand fisted in my shirt like an anchor. For a moment, I stood there and watched her sleep, memorizing the steady rhythm of her breathing. I had learned, too late in life, that peace was not something you assumed would be there tomorrow.Outside, movement had already begun. Wolves passed the cottage in measured strides, conversations muted, eyes scanning more than usual. There was a sharpness to everyone’s posture now, an awareness that had not existed weeks ago.The

Sera POV The night after the council meeting refused to settle.Sleep came in fragments, broken by the soft shift of wind against the cottage walls and the distant, restless movement of wolves who could not find their dens or their peace. I lay awake long after Lyra’s breathing evened out and the fire burned down to embers, staring at the ceiling as though answers might be written there if I looked long enough.My wolf did not pace this time. She lay coiled and alert, a steady presence beneath my skin, listening with me.Morning arrived without ceremony. No birdsong announced it, no golden spill of light. Just a gradual thinning of the dark, like the world reluctantly admitting another day had begun.I rose quietly and dressed before anyone else woke, pulling on my boots and cloak with deliberate care. Every movement felt weighted, as if the air itself resisted being disturbed. Outside, the ground was damp, the earth holding onto the memory of night.Ravenwood was already awake.Not