Chapter 19

• Zeva’s POV
• The night was unusually still, the northern wind reduced to a faint whisper as I wandered the corridors of the packhouse, attempting to escape the oppressive weight that seemed to cling to every stone and shadow. I had been restless ever since dinner, my thoughts a tangle of unease that refused to settle. Something about the way Lorene had lingered at Aric’s side during the council meeting earlier gnawed at me, a constant itch under my skin that no amount of training could scratch.
• I paused outside the council chamber, drawn by muffled voices that filtered through the heavy oak door. At first, I tried to ignore it, tried to convince myself that I had no right to listen. But curiosity, and the subtle tug of my wolf, won. I crept closer, pressing my ear to the wood, heart hammering against my ribs.