It had been three days since I burned the Crescent Vale packhouse to the ground.
Smoke no longer filled the sky, but the smell still clung to everything. The trees, the dirt, even my skin. It was like the land couldn’t forget what had happened here, and honestly, neither could I.
The pack was quiet at first. Everyone kept their distance, watching me carefully, unsure what kind of Alpha I would be. They had followed my lead in battle, trusted me enough to bring them victory, but now came the part no one prepared me for… rebuilding.
The allied packs who had helped us fight were starting to leave. One by one, they said their goodbyes, promising to help if we ever needed them again. But I could tell by their eyes that they hoped we wouldn’t. No one wanted to get mixed up in Crescent Vale’s
