CAELIN POV
The more I showed Martha my pack, the more she relaxed.
Not all at once.
Martha did not do anything all at once unless it involved threatening someone, destroying a legal argument, or kissing me so hard under white roses that my brain still occasionally lost signal when the memory passed too close.
But little by little, step by step, room by room, Wisteria stopped looking like a werewolf castle she had entered barefoot after midnight and started becoming something she could touch without bracing for impact.
She noticed everything.
The carved beams in the dining hall. The old portraits along the east corridor. The children’s drawings pinned near the kitchen because the omegas refused to take them down, even when the children became warriors and the drawings became deeply em
