= Amara =
The street was loud long before the shouting started.
It always was.
Veyrath’s market road ran through the heart of the territory, a wide stone stretch lined with stalls, brick shops, and the constant hum of pack life. Merchants barked prices. Children laughed too loudly. Wolves—shifted and unshifted alike—moved with purpose, shoulders squared, eyes sharp.
This was the first place that came to mind when I decided I needed to get out and walk for a while.
I was still healing—my body marked with bruises that hadn’t quite faded, wounds that reminded me to move carefully. Mikael had been clear about what he wanted: stay home, rest, recover properly. He’d even suggested continuing my lessons indoors, where I’d be safe and out of sight.
I ignored him anyway.
The walls of the h
