CELESTE’S POV
I knew something was wrong long before anything actually happened.
It wasn’t a sound or a scent or even something I could clearly name.
It was a feeling—subtle at first, like a thread pulled taut deep in my chest.
The night pressed in on me in a way that felt…familiar.
I lay still on the narrow bed in my Frostbane quarters, watching shadows shift on the ceiling.
The guards stationed outside hadn’t moved for hours. Their presence was a constant weight, felt even without a wolf to confirm it.
I had grown used to being watched, being contained, being treated like a criminal that might slip through their fingers if they loosened their grip for even a second.
My fingers clenched against the thin blanket, the fabric coarse beneath my skin. The unease climbed higher, pressing into my ribs, constricting my lungs.
Something was wrong.
Not in the vague, restless way I had felt these past few days, but in a sharper, more defined way that made my pulse climb.
