Seren
The past few days have been a blur of post-ceremony clean-up, sending guests on their way, and getting the pack back in order after the celebrations. Mom, Dad, and Gideon left the day after the ceremony, as planned. I was still adjusting to the hollow they left behind.
My feet struck the packed earth in a steady rhythm as I ran, breath burning in my chest, muscles loosening with each stride. The motion usually cleared my head—but today, my thoughts slipped backward, replaying their departure in cruel, perfect detail.
Two days ago
Duncan and I had stood on the wide stone steps of the packhouse, the air sharp and clean with early morning frost. Mom and Dad loaded the last of their bags into their SUV, breath fogging as they moved. Gideon stood a short distance away with Malachi and
