Aurora’s P.O.V

I still remember the way Caroline’s voice lowered when she first mentioned the rogue wolves. It wasn’t just fear—it was the sort of trembling dread you carry in your bones, like a memory you wish you could unhear. We’d been sitting by the stream behind the old training fields, the wind tugging at her blonde hair, and for a moment, it had almost felt peaceful—until she said it.

“They’re not like us anymore,” she whispered, eyes darting around as if ...