The door shut behind them with a soft click, muting the cheers still echoing outside. Inside the packhouse, the candlelight had dimmed, the celebration beginning to fade, leaving behind only the low burn of adrenaline and something else Opal couldn't quite name.
She let go of Kael's hand and moved toward the mirror near the entryway, fingers automatically adjusting the ceremonial silver chain resting on her shoulders. Her heart was still pounding from the speech, from the way the pack had welcomed her like a long-lost daughter.
But her eyes… her eyes kept drifting back to him.
The stranger with the cold stare and the arms crossed like judgment.
She turned slowly. Kael had pulled off his ceremonial tunic and tossed it onto a nearby chair, now standing in his undershirt and dark slacks, scrubbing a hand over his face like he was trying to shake off the weight of the day.
"Who was he?" Opal asked.
Kael stilled.
