THIRD PERSON
Night falls heavy over the Pack. Not quiet. Not peaceful. Just… still.
At the far edge of the territory, where light rarely reaches and laughter never lingers, Claire stumbles through the darkness. Barefoot. Unsteady.
A bottle hangs loosely from her fingers. Empty. Like everything else.
She laughs. The sound is jagged. Wrong. “Look at you…” she mutters to herself.
Her reflection stares back from a small puddle beneath her feet. Messy hair. Dull eyes. A shadow of who she once was.
“Alpha’s daughter,” she mocks softly. “Powerful.”
Another hollow laugh. “Pathetic.”
She kicks the water, breaking the reflection. But it doesn’t change anything. Because the truth doesn’t disappear. It stays. Inside her.
Every mistake. Every choice. Every moment she chose cruelty over kindne
