Estella stirred awake, her body feeling like it had been trampled by a herd of wild horses. Every muscle screamed in protest, her arms heavy, her legs stiff, and her back throbbing mercilessly. It felt as if she'd been hit by a truck, or maybe something worse. Groaning softly, she shifted slightly, immediately regretting it as fresh waves of soreness pulsed through her limbs.
"She's awake," a voice whispered nearby, laced with relief.
Then another, softer yet firm, followed almost immediately. "Estella, are you okay?"
Estella forced her eyes open, blinking a few times until the blurry forms sharpened. Hovering beside her bed was none other than Sheila—Crassus' mother, the pack's matriarch in—her warm brown eyes clouded with deep concern. Standing a few feet away, arms folded tightly, was Sophia, her usual bright expression replaced with something much stormier.
