Chapter 363: Liora’s Memories Nova's POV

The attic was darker and colder than I'd expected. Dust floated in the dim light that streamed through a cracked window, and the air carried the faint scent of cedar and time.

This part of the Shadowfang Pack house had been sealed off for years-ever since Liora's death.

Drystan had given me permission to look through her things, but stepping into the space felt like crossing into sacred ground.

Her scent was long gone, replaced by the mustiness of disuse, but I could still feel her presence here.

Liora had always seemed larger than life, unbreakable, but here she was just a collection of forgotten memories, packed away in old boxes.

I moved cautiously, my fingers trailing over the stacks of wooden crates and trunks.

A soft creak from the floorboards behind me made me turn.

"You don't have to do this," Drystan said, his voice low. He stood in the doorway, his face shadowed but his concern clear. "I can look through it if you want. You don't need to carry this."

I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I need to, Drystan. I need to understand. She hid so much from me, and if there's anything here that can help us..." My voice trailed off.

Help us with the rogues. With the Rogue King. With understanding why she made the choices she did.

He nodded, stepping back but not leaving entirely.

He was giving me space, but I could feel his presence just outside the door-a silent reassurance.

I turned back to the room and began opening the boxes. The first few held little of note: old clothes, trinkets, and faded photographs of a time I barely remembered.

a smaller chest near the back of the room,

and the clasp that once held it shut

The handwriting inside was unmistakably hers-strong, deliberate strokes that mirrored her

dust covering the leather was removed and I started

fragmented, scattered across years. Some were simple recollections of our time in the

darker, written in hurried script that reflected her state of mind. "Nova doesn't understand, and I pray she never does. The rogues are not what they seem. They're not just scavengers-they're soldiers. They want to destroy the Packs, to rebuild the world in their image.

thought I could outsmart him, but I was wrong. He knows

hitched as I read the words, the full weight of what she'd been dealing

known she'd kept secrets, but I hadn't realized just how deeply. entangled she'd been

how far

protect me.

was one final entry, scrawled hastily across

me, find the man with the mark. He knows the truth. He knows what the Rogue King is planning. Trust no one

words, my heart pounding. The man with the mark. Who was he? Did he still exist? And what truth

would find answers, but instead more questions entered

things on her on and carrying the burden of protecting me all on

me. His shadow

is it?" he asked,

the book toward

a

looking for

Rogue King."

furrowed as he leaned closer, reading the words. "A mark..." he murmured. "What kind of

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