Chapter 3 A New Place

Rhea didn't speak during the meeting.

She watched.

Listened.

Let the Silver Hollow elders talk around her. They asked the usual questions. Where she'd come from. Why she left her pack. What she was looking for.

She gave them the answers she'd prepared.

Born into a minor pack. Lost it during a border skirmish. Spent years wandering the edge of Velmorra. Tired of running. Looking for peace.

Half-truths. Smooth enough to pass.

The man-Lucien, she finally heard someone call him-stood silently through it all. Not watching her directly. But aware of her. Like a quiet tension in the room that no one else seemed to notice.

When the questions stopped, an older woman with silver-threaded braids spoke.

"You may stay. For now."

Rhea dipped her head in thanks, careful not to look too relieved.

But the weight of Lucien's presence lingered long after she left the hall.

---

Silver Hollow didn't waste time.

The next day, she was assigned to the lower watch patrol. Three-hour shifts on the outer walls. Routine. But she welcomed it. Movement helped her think. Being out under the trees helped her breathe.

Still, she couldn't ignore the way some wolves stared at her like they were waiting for her to show her teeth.

And worse-how some didn't look at her at all. Like they already knew she didn't belong.

She was used to being an outsider. But this felt different. Like walking on a frozen lake. One crack too loud, and she'd fall through.

---

Lucien found her two days later.

Not by accident.

He came to her post near dusk, where the mist curled low around the trees and the sky turned soft with evening light. He said nothing at first, just stood beside her on the wall, arms crossed, eyes scanning the forest.

"I checked your file," he said finally.

Of course he had.

"Anything interesting?" she asked.

"Not really. Too clean."

Rhea gave a small shrug. "Maybe I'm just boring."

Lucien glanced at her, something unreadable flickering behind his calm expression. "You're not."

She looked away, toward the trees. "Why are you really here?"

"To watch."

"I thought that's what patrols are for."

"They miss things."

Rhea's pulse jumped.

"Like what?"

"Like wolves who don't flinch when they're lied to. Or whose scent changes when they're being tested."

She turned to face him fully. "You think I'm a threat?"

"I think you're hiding something. But not what everyone else thinks."

That surprised her.

"Then what?"

Lucien leaned forward slightly, his voice quiet. "You don't smell like someone who ran from a fight. You smell like someone who was sent."

The wind stirred.

So did her heart.

And for a long moment, they just looked at each other-two wolves standing in the fading light, the space between them filled with questions neither of them could ask.

Then he turned.

"Be careful, Rhea," he said softly. "This place looks calm. But it watches everything."

He walked away, disappearing into the shadows.

She stood there long after he left.

Not because she was afraid.

But because-for the first time in a long time-someone had seen through her.

And it unsettled her more than any weapon ever could.