Mauve leaned back in her kitchen chair, letting the rich, dark aroma of her coffee fill the air as she took a slow, indulgent sip. She loved mornings like this, when the world was quiet, and she could relish in the solitude of her own thoughts. The city outside buzzed faintly through the windows, a distant hum that felt worlds away from the dramas of the pack back in Princeton.

Just then, she heard the front door creak open, followed by footsteps approaching her kitchen. Without needing to look up, she knew it was Claire. Her sister had a habit of letting herself in whenever she pleased, never bothering to...