She found an empty seat and sank into it, hugging the backpack to her chest like a lifeline.
Her stomach churned, nerves finally demanding their due. She pulled out a strip of beef jerky, chewing slowly, deliberately, grounding herself. A few careful sips of water followed.
For now… she was okay.
She refused—refused—to think about the pack. About her parents. About Nick. About the bond she had accepted breaking, the pain she knew she had caused, the chaos she had left behind.
Those thoughts could wait.
Survival came first.
She adjusted her cap lower, curling inward, becoming smaller, quieter.
“Iva,” Avalon murmured gently inside her mind, finally allowing herself to ease. “Rest. We will need strength later. I’ll stay alert.”
Emotion swelled suddenly, fierce and aching.
“Thank you,
