The night felt too still.

The kind of stillness that pressed against your chest and made every breath feel heavier than it should. The pack house had quieted, lanterns dimmed, corridors hushed as though the walls themselves were holding their breath. Kristen had gone on border patrol not long ago—his sharp commands and presence lingering in the air like a shadow—and with him gone, my thoughts began to itch.

I told myself not to do it. Over and over, I repeated the words like a ...