Chapter 35

The moon hung high in the night sky, bathing the packhouse and its grounds in a cold silver glow. The estate was quiet, the kind of deep stillness that felt heavy, charged with unspoken tension. Althea hadn’t been able to sleep. She had tried, curling up beneath the soft blankets in her room, willing her racing mind to quiet. But her thoughts refused to settle, swirling endlessly around everything that had happened that day. Her father’s latest attack, the whispers of the pack, the way her confidence had felt like it was hanging by a thread. The silence in her room only made it worse, amplifying the doubts she couldn’t shake. She swung her legs over the side of her bed, her bare feet brushing the cool wooden floor. The air felt colder tonight, and she shivered as she grabbed her shawl, wrapping it tightly around her shoulders. Maybe a walk will help, she thought. The halls of the packhouse were dimly lit by the soft glow of lanterns hung at intervals along the walls. Althea moved quiet