Three days passed in a strange new rhythm. Aria's mornings, once spent in peaceful solitude among her herbs, were now supervised. Either Cassidy worked beside her, or one of her uncles lingered nearby, pretending to read or sharpen weapons while keeping watch. Even Nessa came some mornings, sitting on the garden bench and discussing pack matters while Aria tended her plants.
It should have felt comforting, being so protected. Instead, it felt like a cage.
Liora and Kaelan came by every afternoon, and they tried to maintain their usual easy friendship. But even at the creek, which Aria was only allowed to visit with both friends present and a guard watching from the trees, things felt different. Tense. Like they were all waiting for something terrible to happen.
On the fourth morning, Aria woke to raised voices downstairs. She pulled on her robe and crept to the top of the stairs, listening.
