TRUST AND ITS COST
Selene POV
The packhouse felt like a held breath.
I walked through the corridors on my way to breakfast, and everywhere I felt it—the sideways glances, the conversations that stopped when I approached, the way wolves who had greeted me warmly days ago now measured their words, their distance, their trust.
Silas's escape had cracked something fundamental. Not just security. Not just confidence in leadership. The basic assumption that the wolves around you were what they appeared to be.
The bond pulsed steady in my chest. Damon was in the strategy room with Ronan, reviewing what we knew, what we suspected, what we couldn't yet prove. I felt his focus through our connection—sharp, controlled, angry.
He wanted to act. To arrest, to confront, to force answers from the six remaining suspects until someone broke. But we'd agreed on patience. On watching. On letting the traitor reveal themselves through their own caution.
Patience felt like drowning.
