The hatred comes back quietly.
Not as a scream.
Not as a fight.
But as a memory that refuses to stay buried.
It starts with a look.
I catch it across the valley, Kade standing near the training ring, shirt half-buttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows, his attention split between a group of younger wolves sparring and the way Lina keeps glancing at him like she's measuring whether he's safe.
He looks… comfortable.
Here.
In my sanctuary.
Something in my chest twists sharply.
My wolf bristles. "Why does he look like he belongs?"
He doesn't.
He never will.
Not here.
Not in my world.
And yet,
The sanctuary has started to treat him like one of its own. Wolves nod at him in passing. Ilyra has stopped watching him like she's waiting for him to pull a blade. Maera doesn't flinch when he enters a room.
He's slipping in.
Quietly.
Carefully.
Like he always does.
Anger flares hot and sudden in my chest.
I turn away before he can catch my eye.
