Chapter 181

Rumors are like smoke.

They curl into every corner, cling to every surface, even when the fire is long gone.

Alpha Hervé had once used them as chains, binding his people with lies.

Alpha Theron wove them like nets, catching wolves too weary to fight.

And now, looks like Isalune tried the same game.

It began with murmurs, soft as moth wings. A careless comment in the kitchens. A muttered phrase in