AylaThe garage had gone quiet in the way only a place full of wolves ever really could.Not silence. Never that. Silence belonged to emptiness, to abandoned things, to places where nothing living was paying attention. This was something heavier than silence, a kind of collective restraint, as though the whole building had drawn breath and was holding it around one wounded centre. Even with the back room door half-closed, I could feel the pack outside it. Boots shifting on concrete. A low voice cut short before it rose too far. The murmur of men who had fought and lost and bled and now, with the worst of it behind them, did not quite know what to do with their hands except wait. Every now and then a scent drifted in through the crack in the door, smoke, sweat, rain dried into clothes, damp fur, old grief. Under all of it, the room held the smell of clean water, antiseptic, engine oil buried in the walls and floorboards, and Lucas.Not blood. Not mud. Not the rank, brutal stench of bat
最後更新 : 2026-05-12 閱讀更多