Three days had passed since the High Council's visit, and Isabella was finally beginning to breathe normally again. The constant tension that had gripped the pack was slowly easing, though she noticed the guards still maintained their heightened vigilance. Warriors patrolled the borders more frequently, and every stranger was viewed with suspicion.
Isabella stood in the pack's communal kitchen, learning to prepare breakfast for the children. Sarah, the head cook, had insisted on teaching her traditional recipes that the pack members loved. It was a welcome distraction from the weight of secrets and mysteries that seemed to follow her everywhere.
"No, Luna, you must fold the dough gently," Sarah instructed, her weathered hands guiding Isabella's movements. "These pancakes are Emma's favorite. She always asks for extra honey."