Chapter 12. The Wolf Who Knew Her Name

The air had gone unnaturally still.

Not peaceful—never that—but dense, as though the silence itself had weight. It pressed against Selene’s ribs, made breathing feel deliberate. She sat with her back against a low rise of stone, blade resting across her knees, her gaze fixed on the dark line of trees ahead. The moon hung high but veiled behind drifting cloud, its light muted and uncertain. Her senses were sharper than they had ever been, yet something in her chest felt heavy, coiled tight with expectation.

Something was coming.

Not teeth or claws this time.

Something far more dangerous.

Memory.

Behind her, Alaric shifted, pulling his cloak closer as the wind threaded cold fingers throug