Recently, the camp seemed heavier and quieter. More than the wind, words flew. Every time I left my tent, I could count how many of them crawled over my skin.

The boy of Selene.

Heir to the Alpha.

Perhaps it is true after all.

I could tell from the rogues' silence as I passed. The council members' avoidance of my gaze.

Selene's small game was effective.

And Matilda remained aloof throughout it all. I kept pushing her there, not because she wanted to.

She was at the training ...