Chapter 29

The sun was high in the sky, spilling golden light across the packhouse and its grounds, but Althea felt none of its warmth. She moved quietly through the halls, keeping her head down, the soft shuffle of her steps nearly drowned out by the buzz of voices. Whispers. They were everywhere: slithering through the estate like a cold, invisible wind. Althea couldn’t always make out the exact words, but she knew they were about her. She could feel it in the way conversations died the moment she entered a room, in the quick glances that darted her way before people turned their backs. It was the same look they always gave her, one that said she doesn’t belong here. Her chest tightened, and she hugged the strap of her satchel closer to her side. She’d grown used to feeling out of place here, but this was worse. It was like the entire pack had turned its focus on her, and no matter how much she tried to avoid their eyes, she could still feel the weight of their judgment. Althea’s footsteps slow