#Chapter 29: Brewing Storms

Third Person Whispers swirled like leaves caught in a current. Chloe had cracked something open, and now everything felt unstable. At the pack house, in the meeting halls, even at the training fields, the air held a strange static and an anticipatory hush. A storm was coming. Chloe knew exactly what she was doing. With every softly spoken word, every calculated smile, she stitched doubt into the seams of the pack. She wasn’t direct, not anymore. She didn’t accuse Emily outright. Instead, she dropped delicate poison disguised as concern. “I only want what’s best for the pack,” she told a small group of younger she-wolves over tea. “It was never about position.” She paused for effect, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “But it must be hard for Emily, right? Coming from such complicated roots.” The implication hung there. Unspoken, but heard. She didn’t say Emily didn’t belong. She let others come to the conclusion for her. It worked. Not