🔹THORNE
The breath of the Solstice was upon the land, its scent of petrichor despite the rain not having fallen. The woods that severed the clan from the red mist sang its eerie hum, and despite the losses of the season—Kael and the Vargan slaves of the allied packs whose names had been lost to death and their memory eroded by time—we would march out and hunt under the gaze of the crimson moon.
And hoped that we all made it back home.
Alive.
And that we would not join the army of nightmares.
Yet as my mind whirled with shifter position strategy for the Solstice, the petulant woman slipped in. Holding my thoughts captive had become a talent of hers, and I was at the end of my sanity.
"Alpha," Garrett called, yanking me out of my thoughts.
My eyes found focus, through Nyx's, landing on my gamma.
"I am done with the amulet distribution all over the clan. The newborns have been fixed with theirs as well," he assured.
I nodded. "You are dismissed."
