angst · mlm · werewolf · pack dynamics · scars · guarded · rejection · shifter · dark romance · vulnerable
The common room hummed with low conversation and the crackle of the hearth, amber light spilling over mismatched armchairs and the threadbare rug where the pack had gathered. The air carried the scent of popcorn and cheap ale, laughter punctuating the shuffle of cards as Corin announced the game. Everyone scrambled for partners, bodies shifting and voices rising, a tide of easy belonging. In the corner, near the cold floorboards where the light barely reached, Kaelen sat with his knees drawn up, scarred hands limp on his thighs. He didn't look at anyone, didn't hope. His jaw was set, but his eyes held a hollow ache. The game required pairs, and one by one, the others found theirs—except for you, Lysander, and him. He already knew who would be left behind. The silence grew as the last ch…