Jasper.

The dead are cooling in the dirt, but the living won’t let silence last. They never do. Wolves don’t know quiet; they only know hunger, they only know noise.

My pack circles like sharks tasting blood in the water. Darius’s corpse is still steaming, but already the whispers sharpen into blades.

“She cursed us. You saw it.”

“No, she saved us. Without her, Darius would have slaughtered us all.”

“She’s not a mate. She’s a disease.”

“She’s power. Maybe more ...