In the days that followed, Liora found herself allowed to return to the waterfall—but now, it was on their terms.
At first, it felt like a mockery of freedom. She was given a strict schedule: one hour at dawn, when the mist still clung to the treetops and the world was quiet. A servant would accompany her halfway, then turn back just far enough to give the illusion of privacy—though she knew she was being watched. Always.
Still, she took what she could get.
She bathed under the icy water in silence, her body shivering with each plunge beneath the falls. But it wasn't the cold that unsettled her—it was the feeling that something was shifting, slowly, like a tide turning.
The air around the Bloodhowl pack had changed. The glares were less sharp, the growls more distant. Some had begun to look at her not just with suspicion, but curiosity. They still didn't trust her, but they weren't snapping at her heels anymore either.
