Bloodhound Moon
That evening, in the common hall, I learned the full weight of the pack’s attention.
Ronan’s former mate candidate, a woman named Selene, approached me. She moved with the kind of grace that came from training, confidence, and privilege. She stopped before me and smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
“You’re the new favorite,” she said softly, loud enough for others nearby to hear. “The Moon-marked.”
“I’m no one’s favorite,” I replied.
She laughed, the sound cutting like a blade. “We’ll see about that. Some of us have been passed over before… and we never forget.”
Sikat na Kabanata