The tension from the border followed us all the way back to the packhouse. No one spoke much on the walk home, because there was nothing left to say after Christopher stepped out of those trees and made it very f*****g clear that he knew exactly what was happening inside the pack. The forest felt too quiet as we crossed back into our territory, and even the wind moving through the branches sounded like it was carrying warnings none of us wanted to hear.
Ezra walked ahead of everyone with his shoulders tight and his eyes fixed forward, and the matebond pulsed steadily beneath my skin like a low drumbeat. His anger had not exploded the way it could have at the border, and that was somehow worse.
When Ezra stayed quiet like this it meant he was thinking. And when Ezra started thinking like
