The pack hunt was called under the full moon’s watchful eye.
Gaius had been restless for days, his paranoia about the Mad King’s lingering delegation feeding into a need to assert dominance. “A hunt will remind everyone who leads this pack,” he announced during morning assembly. Cheers rose from the warriors. Maisie stood silently behind his chair as always, leash discreet beneath her collar, eyes on the floor.
She was not meant to participate.
She was meant to watch.
He dragged her along anyway, the leather leash wrapped tight around his fist as the pack moved into the forest at dusk. The air was thick with anticipation — wolves eager to shift, to run, to hunt. Torches flickered along the trail, casting long shadows between the trees. Maisie stumbled behind Gaius on bare feet, the cha
