Zarek.
The chamber walls seemed to close in tighter with every lap I made across the floor.
Restlessness clawed at me, raw and relentless, like my mind had slipped its leash and refused to come back.
The whispers about my weakness had reached every corner of the keep—loyal wolves who prayed the curse would spare me, and bitter ones who hoped it would devour me completely, leaving nothing but the mindless beast they’d always claimed lurked beneath my skin.
Gods, the weight of their stares pressed heavier than iron.
From the birthing chamber down the corridor came Danika’s cries—sharp, guttural howls of a she-wolf in the throes of bringing life.
She was moon-birthing.
The midwives’ calm voices cut through the pain, urging her to breathe deep, to push again, to hold fast.
My fist
