Avery's POV
The air around Golden Ridge was different from how I remembered it. It felt heavier, charged with tension and despair. The once-vibrant forest lining the path to the Pack grounds seemed muted, as if even nature itself had withdrawn in response to the turmoil within.
I stood on the outskirts of the village, my breath misting in the cool morning air, and took in the sight before me. The place I had called home for so long now felt alien. Houses that once radiated warmth now appeared weathered and bleak. Wolves moved about with hurried steps, their faces marked with worry and exhaustion.
Golden Ridge was at war, and it showed.
Drawing a deep breath, I stepped forward. Each stride brought me closer to the heart of the Pack, and with it, the whispers began.
"Avery Kingsley?"
"She's back? After all this time?"
"What's she doing here? Isn't it because of her that we're in this mess?"