Caelan POV:
Barely an hour has passed since the training yard fell silent.
The pack still hums with it, the subtle recalibration that follows witnessing something unexpected and undeniable. I feel it as I walk toward the guest quarters, in the way wolves straighten unconsciously, in the way conversations soften and then resume once I pass.
They are still thinking about Elara Rourke.
I stop outside the guest quarters, adjusting the cuffs of my black shirt even though they don’t need it. The fabric fits close across my shoulders and chest, the top buttons undone, formal enough for council eyes, honest enough not to pretend restraint where there is none.
Vaelor stirs low approving. The door opens and Elara steps out, my attention locks instantly.
She’s dressed for council now, and the i
