Caelan POV:
The pack settles slowly after the council’s departure, tension draining from the land in subtle stages rather than all at once. I feel it through the bond I share with this territory — the easing of shoulders, the quiet return of routine, the low murmur of relief carried on the evening air.
Elara does not return to me, deliberately. I need distance, if only long enough to think clearly again.
Instead, I find Kieran and Rourke in the smaller strategy room off the main hall, a space reserved for conversations that do not belong in front of an audience. The door closes behind us with a solid, grounding finality.
For a moment, none of us speak.
Rourke stands near the window, arms folded loosely across his chest, posture relaxed in a way that comes from long-held confidence rat
