Silence.

That was the first terrifying thing Bjorn noticed when Clara finally opened her eyes.

No growl beneath her breath.

No restless power under her skin.

No echo of her wolf pacing at the edges of her mind.

Just… silence.

She lay pale against the healer’s bed, skin washed of all color, lashes trembling like someone waking from a nightmare too long to remember. War chants had dulled to murmurs outside. Victory had come, bodies had fallen, and somewhere between triumph and ...