The night after Iron Fang leaves, the sanctuary does not celebrate.
It listens.
The valley settles into a quiet so deep it feels like the earth itself is holding its breath. Fires burn low. Wolves move softly. Even the lake seems to still, its glowing surface reflecting the moon like a watching eye.
I sit on a stone ledge overlooking the water, knees drawn to my chest, fingers digging into the fabric of my cloak.
Power hums beneath my skin, restless and alert.
Not wild.
Not calm.
Waiting.
My wolf paces inside me, tail low, ears flicking at every sound. "The world heard us today."
"I know," I whisper.
We both do.
You don't throw back an entire pack without consequences. You don't declare yourself sovereign and expect the old world to nod politely and move on.
Footsteps approach behind me.
I don't turn.
I don't need to.
Kade stops a careful distance away.
Not close enough to touch.
Close enough to be felt.
