#Chapter 123: Shadows in the Staff

The council chamber smelled faintly of smoke and plaster dust, the same stench that had lingered since we returned to the ruined Pack House. The elders were already arguing when I slipped into my chair beside Richard, their voices sharp and overlapping like quarrelsome crows. Numbers flew across the table: how many bricks to replace, how many roofs still bare, how many families displaced. It wasn’t strategy, not even debate, just bickering. I forced myself to sit straight, though the chair’s wood was chipped under my palms. I hated that I still felt like an imposter here, surrounded by wolves who had been ruling longer than I’d even been alive. They looked at me like I was ornamental, a courtesy seat granted because Richard insisted. Then Callen Rusk cleared his throat. A junior elder, younger than most, with dark hair that fell into his eyes when he bent over his notes. “If we’re arguing over budgets, we’re missing the larger issue. Our workers aren’t safe. We need a safety board