"Don't walk away from me, Liora."
Gonzalo said, sounding worn, weary, but still trying to command. The wind from his old chambers carried his scent, faint and broken, the scent of a dethroned Alpha who no longer ruled anything but regret.
Liora froze mid step, her back to him. Her hair, tangled from sleepless nights, fluttered weakly as the last rays of light spilled over the camp. The air around them was heavy with a kind of mourning neither could name.
She didn't turn. "Why shouldn't I?" Her voice was soft but cold, the kind that made even the strongest wolves take a step back. "Haven't you taken enough?"
