Gideon stood paralyzed in the center of the kitchen, his breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches. The grey ceramic coffee mug felt like a block of lead in his hand.

He stared down at the underside of the base, his thumb tracing the tiny, elegant grooves etched into th

Gideon stared at the notebook.

It was a simple, dark brown journal with tarnished brass corners. He recognized it instantly—it was the book Sera had carried with her everywhere during her teens, the one she used to write down pack supply audits and training schedules.

H

The air inside the Pack Tailor’s workshop smelled of crushed velvet, stiff starch, and ozone.

I leaned heavily against the mahogany fitting table, my knuckles white as I pressed them into the dark wood to keep my legs from folding. My chest burned with every shallow brea