The storm arrived before dawn.
It did not creep in quietly like normal snowstorms did. It came howling over the mountains like something alive, tearing at the treetops and rattling the shutters of every building in the pack. Snow whipped across the sky so thick and fast that it looked like someone was shaking the world in a snow globe without mercy.
Wind screamed against the walls. Windows trembled. The entire territory seemed to crouch beneath the weight of it.
Of course it had to be today.
My mother’s death date.
The day everything carved itself into my bones.
The day I learned what grief really meant.
I stood near the window in my room, staring into the white blur outside. My heart thudded in slow, painful beats. My wolf was tucked low inside me, tail curled, ears flat. The storm
