The change did not wait for permission.
It did not require a new fracture or a larger disruption to justify itself. It had already been building—through each moment Selena held the balance, through each adjustment Rowan made at the edges, through each hesitation in the convergence when it encountered something it had not been designed to contain.
Now it deepened.
Not outward.
Not in scale.
In consequence.
At Silver Fang, the air felt different.
Not heavier.
Not unstable.
But less certain in the way it resolved around physical space, as though what could be seen was no longer fully anchored to what existed beneath it.
Arvella noticed it the moment she stepped back into the garden at first light.
The convergence was still there, steady beneath her feet, aligning cleanly as it alwa
