NEVA POV
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The name on the screen was Crel Daven.
Ryke said it once, flat, the way he said things he'd locked somewhere and was retrieving against his preference. The name itself meant nothing to me. But Ryke's wolf — still surfaced, still pushing through the bond in that rare, alarming, weather-event way — told me everything the name didn't.
"Back room," Ryke said. "Now."
I looked at my daughter, asleep in the carry-cradle Ziko had appeared with at some point overnight, providence unknown and origin unquestioned.
My wolf: *She's fine. Go.*
You're sure.
*She's asleep, she's safe, she has the entire compound around her, and you are needed in the other room. Go.*
This was, I noted, the most direct she'd been about anything. Usually she hedged. She liked to let me arrive at conclus
