Ivy

I had learned to tell time by the sound of doors.

The western door groaned when the kitchen boys went out to the smokehouse. The barracks door coughed when the warriors stumbled in after patrol. But the Alpha’s door never made a sound. It opened and closed like a breath held too long, and every time it did, the whole house seemed to go still.

I kept my head down and my hands moving. Hot water. Ash soap. Linen that never stayed clean because the world there was built ...