The days after Lupa revealed the truth about the bloodline were strange. Life at the packhouse tried to return to normal — young wolves played in the fields, elders repaired the walls, and Asher and I trained as usual. But beneath it all, there was a quiet tension. Everyone seemed to feel it, though no one admitted it.
Even Arlo noticed it. He spent long hours in the library, studying the energy lines and old Eclipse Pack records, muttering to himself about “unfinished business” and “traces of power that shouldn’t exist.” Sometimes he would scratch his wrist, just like before, and glance nervously at the training field as if expecting the air itself to strike him down.
I couldn’t shake the feeling either. Lupa’s arrival had been like opening a door long thought sealed. My father’s power,
