Keya's POV:
“Call me Elizabeth,” she said, smoothing her skirt with a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes. But it looked forced. Like her politeness was straining against something hidden.
My chest tightened with a warning I couldn’t silence. Run, my wolf hissed, her instincts trembling beneath my skin.
If I could’ve, I would have. I would’ve turned and sprinted until I was breathless and gone. But I couldn’t. Because she was standing too close. Blocking any escape.
I forced a slow inhale. “Yes, Elizabeth?” I asked, voice steady even as my heart hammered. “Is there something you want to—?”
She shook her head sharply and cut me off. “You see her?” She gestured toward a group near the edge of the courtyard. “That is Thelma—daughter of the Firewood Pack, one of the largest in the Wes
