The evening came slowly to Regina estate as the restless energy of the day softened beneath the fading warmth of the sun, and though the courtyard still carried the lingering echo of challenges and whispers the wolves of the pack gradually returned to quieter routines while lanterns flickered along the stone paths leading toward the inner halls of the manor.
Two lines of quiet movement followed Elara as she walked through the corridor toward the healer's chamber.
Her footsteps were steady.
But her thoughts refused to settle.
"Hmm," she murmured under her breath.
"What a ridiculous day."
Three lines of memory moved quietly through her mind as she remembered the confrontation in the courtyard, Isabella's sharp challenge, Darius Kane's arrogance, and the strange calm gaze of Adrian Holt watching everything like a man measuring the pieces of a game no one else yet understood.
She exhaled slowly.
"Politics," she muttered.
"Damn it."
