Rhys

Lina.

The little mouse who somehow lodged herself beneath my skin.

I wipe the sweat from my brow, ignoring the curious glances from the younger males training nearby. Let them look. I’m in no mood for conversation, especially not when the damn wolf keeps pacing inside me, restless, sniffing, searching.

She hasn’t been here.

Why does that bother me as much as it does? She’s a maid. A quiet one. One who probably prefers not to be noticed. But I notice her. More than I should.

The captain calls a rotation, and the warriors shift into sparring sets. I turn away, needing a break, needing to shake this off...