Bella woke to silence.

Not the heavy silence of sleep, but the kind that lingered when the world was holding its breath. The room smelled faintly of herbs and smoke, the sharp tang of salves clinging to her skin. Her body ached in a dozen places—ribs, shoulders, arms—but underneath the pain pulsed something else. A steady warmth, low in her chest, like embers waiting to flare into flame.

Her wolf.

She opened her eyes. The ceiling beams above her were familiar—Alfred’s private chambers. ...