ALYANNAI was still holding a cup of untouched tea when Dad—Alpha George—told me about Amy.For a moment, the world felt like it tilted.“What?” I asked, my voice low, careful, as if speaking louder would shatter something fragile between us.Dad stood near the window of his study, arms crossed, his face hard in a way I rarely saw anymore. The morning light brushed his silver-streaked hair, but there was no warmth in his expression.“She came to the healing center last night,” he said. “Barely conscious. Weak. Bleeding. Terrified.”My fingers tightened around the cup. “Amy?” I repeated. “Marian’s Amy?”He nodded once.My heart sank, not with sympathy first—but with caution.“Dad,” I said slowly, setting the cup down, “we need to be careful.”He turned to look at me, eyes sharp. “Careful?”“Yes,” I said, standing. “Amy is one of Marian’s friends.”The words tasted bitter in my mouth.Silence stretched between us. I could feel my wolf shifting under my skin, uneasy, pacing like it sense
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