The next two days were the slowest torture known to wolfkind. Not physical torture. That I could handle. Emotional torture. Social torture. The kind where everyone hovered like I was a rare museum artifact that might crumble if someone breathed too close.
The pack spent morning to night repairing the training field. Burn marks from the amplifiers were scrubbed away. Broken fences were reforged with fresh silver mesh. Warriors rebuilt the border posts that had cracked under blast pressure. Every clang of metal echoed across the grounds like a reminder that the world was still shaky.
And me.
I was not allowed to do anything.
Not even walk outside without a bodyguard escort.
Which I didn't request.
Which I didn't want.
Which I absolutely complained about every hour.
The twins ignored
