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Wolves At The Door

The rest of the day passed under a strange kind of tension. Henry kept me close, as if some part of him knew that the shadow I’d seen earlier wasn’t my imagination. He didn’t question me again about it, but every time I turned, his gaze was there—steady, watchful.

By evening, the compound was locked down. Patrols doubled, scouts rotated in shorter shifts, and Marcus walked the borders himself. The air carried a crisp bite, and the fading light bled across the sky in bruised streaks ...

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