Duncan
The confirmation had been given. Lenore’s name had been spoken by four different mouths, each story aligning too cleanly to dismiss. There was no more doubt to chase. Only consequence.
We stepped out of the prison block and into the open air. The late afternoon sky hung low and heavy, thick gray clouds pressing down over the pack grounds. The wind carried the faint scent of ozone.
Gideon noticed it first. His gaze slid to me, but he said nothing. Seren’s fingers brushed mine briefly as we walked. Not for comfort, but for steadiness.
“Lenore’s training,” Eric said as he fell into step beside us. “Back field. Acting like nothing happened.”
Of course she was.
“She won’t run,” Seren said quietly. There was no anger in her tone. Only certainty. “She still thinks she’s untouchable.”
