AVA’S POV
Ever since the Alphas started arriving, Nightfang had stopped feeling like a packhouse and started feeling like a fortress.
There were guards in places where guards usually weren’t.
The hallways, normally full of noise, had gone strangely quiet, like everyone had been told to keep their voices low so the walls wouldn’t carry secrets.
Training schedules changed every few hours. Some sessions were moved. Others were cut short.
More than once, I had arrived at the yard with my gloves on and my hair tied back, only to be told the adults needed the space and we had to clear out.
The younger kids hated it.
I hated it too, but for different reasons.
They were bored.
I was angry.
Most of us had been moved to the other side of the packhouse during the bigger meetings—away from the council chamber, away from the visiting Alphas, away from the war maps and clipped voices and grown-up decisions nobody wanted us to overhear.
