By Monday morning, the whole pack already knows.
I don’t need a mind link to tell me that. I can feel it in the way the air around my house feels heavier, charged, like the walls themselves are bracing for impact. Even the trees outside seem too still, like they’re waiting to see what I’ll do next. I barely slept again. When I did drift off, my dreams were sharp-edged and relentless, full of headlights disappearing down the drive and hands that wouldn’t let go no matter how hard I fought them.
I wake up exhausted in a way sleep can’t fix.
I shower out of habit, scrub my teeth too hard, drag on a hoodie and jeans without really seeing them. Corey’s hoodie. I realize it halfway through pulling it over my head and almost take it off again. Almost. Instead, I tug the sleeves down over my ha
