I swallowed hard. "I don’t know what the right thing is anymore."
Asher didn’t respond, just kept walking. The Crimson Pack moved around us, their glowing red eyes flickering in the darkness. Some walked ahead, some trailed behind, but none spoke to me. I could feel their hesitation, their judgment. I was one of them by blood, but in their eyes, I had chosen Magnus over my own people.
And now, I was a traitor returning home.
By the time we reached the pack’s territory, the tension had thickened. The bonfire in the center of the village crackled, casting long shadows across the clearing. Faces emerged from the dark, some familiar, some unfamiliar, all watching me with unreadable expressions.
A figure stepped forward. Soren. I remember him from my childhood, one of the strongest warriors in the pack. His dark gaze settled on me, hard and unforgiving.
"You shouldn’t be here," he said.
My jaw clenched, but before I could speak, Asher stepped in front of me. "She’s here because I brought her."
Soren crossed his arms, unimpressed. "And why should we trust her now? She abandoned us. She chose him."