80
Paul's pov
From the shadows of the treeline, I watched as Pecan and Noah sparred in the training ground. My wolf paced restlessly within me, a low growl rumbling in the back of my mind. Seeing them together like this,so familiar, so comfortable,sent a sharp pang through my chest. I hated the way Noah looked at her, like she was the center of his world. But what right did I have to hate it? She wasn't mine, not truly.
"Calm yourself," I muttered under my breath, though the command was more for my wolf than for me.
She is ours. The words echoed through my mind, fierce and insistent. My wolf's voice, primal and relentless, refused to be silenced.
"No," I growled back, clenching my fists. "She's not. We chose pate. Remember that."
My wolf snarled in response, but I forced him back, locking him behind the mental walls I'd carefully constructed. This wasn't the time to let him take control, not when the stakes were this high.
